Seeking Time
by Sela McGrane
Summary: Part two of 'The Lost Founder Series'. Sequel to 'Telling Time'. The past is not quite finished with Hermione. She went to it, and now it comes for her. "Who once was lost now takes the lead, she who decides the fates. The Founder must face down her heir, He-Who-Knows-Not-Her-Name."
1. Prologue

**Well, here we go! Happy Christmas (early) to you lot! Seeking Time is officially started, and I'm super excited about how this story is going to continue to unfold. For those of you who are finding this and have not read "Telling Time," you'll want to read that first, or you'll be lost. Seeking Time is part two of five to "The Lost Founder Series." I encourage those of you with Facebook to search out "The Lost Founder" Group over there. Lots of sneak peeks and behind the scenes stuff to be found there, as well as the ability to chat with fellow fans of this series. While "Telling Time" was written strictly from the perspectives of Minerva and Hermione, "Seeking Time" as well as the remainder of the series will be written from the perspectives of a diverse cast of characters. The pattern you will see will be more based on affiliation; a Gryffindor character, a Hufflepuff character, a non-Hogwarts character, a Ravenclaw character, and a Slytherin character. I feel this offers more balance than "Telling Time" had, and given the fact that a year and a half ago (and change), the idea for "Telling Time" was meant to be a short story, no longer than 30k... yeah, that worked out so well ...I felt that the explosion of character base warranted offering more perspectives. A special thanks to my Beta CherriiMarina, for putting up with me through this process. Okay, without further ado, I present - SEEKING TIME!**

* * *

 **Prologue**

* * *

Perenelle Flamel had just come from the Dumbledore estate, having been there to meet her newest Godson, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. What a name indeed! Perenelle thought that it was a bit much, but if her instincts were anything to go on, the babe would grow up to be one of the most noteworthy wizards of the age. He'd live up to such a pretentious name, and she'd be there to ensure he didn't become an insufferable arse during his rise to fame. She'd had to do much the same with the boy's father, and grandfather, not to mention the many generations before them to whom she'd been godmother. The first-born Dumbledore son had been hers to call her own for as long as any of them could remember.

With a quiet _pop_ , Perenelle vanished from the border of Percival's land and reappeared moments later several hundred miles away, in front of the looming gates of Hogwarts. She didn't come here often, and seldom went inside, but even after all these years, it was still home to her, and she liked to just stop and see it. It was summer still, so there was no bustle of students running around the grounds, but that suited her just fine. The soft, green grass was a field of memories, and at least for the moment, there was no youthful laughter to rob her of her anger. Her childhood had been a beautiful dream, growing up with two professors for parents and surrogate aunts, uncles, and grandparents of the rest of the staff at that time. She'd married young, and had been happily so, but then her mother was gone.

And nothing was ever the same. Her sons were born, and her mother wasn't there. Her husband delved into the dark arts, and her mother wasn't there. Perenelle could think of a thousand examples of moments she'd so desperately needed her mother in the years that followed that bitter loss, and so for all the happy memories she could consider standing here and now, when not faced with the idyllic silhouette of a happy childhood, she stood neck high in anger. The boiling mixture of emotion threatened to choke her day in and day out, through all of her first marriage and now into her second one. Nicolas was a good man, and according to him, his overly cheerful demeanor made up for when she had a bad day.

"Madam Flamel?"

Perenelle turned to the left to see a semi familiar face. She'd crossed paths with this woman several times over the years, though it had been some time and age was really beginning to take hold of her. "Cassandra Trelawney," she greeted. "It has been some time. You look well."

"I look old," the other woman countered, "Much like you yourself do. The difference between you and I is that as I continue to age, my body will fail, and yours, well, we both know it won't."

A heavy sigh left Perenelle's lips. "I do hope you haven't joined the ranks of those wishing to exploit my husband's research."

"Oh, heavens no," came a ready assurance. "I have seen things that are to come, and I'm far too great a coward to wish to be there when they come to pass. I seek you because I have seen the fate of your newest godson, and the role you will play in his life. I have seen your past, and how your future will interconnect with my own. I have seen that you are waiting for the chosen one to arrive."

Perenelle paled. "It was all true, then? What my mother told me?"

Cassandra cocked her head to the side, looking thoughtful. "True in the manner she perceived it to be, but it is because of how she perceived it that it will all come to pass."

"Seers," Perenelle scoffed. "Must you speak in riddles?"

"Riddles and rhythm are the foundation of prophecy," came an easy reply. "As all things that have been, and have yet to come to pass, fall into a cosmic pattern which only those with the inner eye can truly understand. It is we who must simplify things in a manner which people like you can understand, though even then, those without the sight often take too much time to even come to the most obvious conclusions."

"I don't…"

Perenelle was cut off as Cassandra's blue eyes glazed over, and her once blond hair began whipping in the summer wind. " _First of three visions to be; alarm, unwind, and mend...The chosen Founder that is she on whom fate must depend...If a boy be marked to fight against the Founder's heir...Trelawney's line must make right, Lost Founder must endure."_

The wind stopped just as suddenly as it had begun, and Cassandra's eyes cleared. "Do you understand, Wardling?"

It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted off of Perenelle's shoulders, the anger at her mother seeming to be shifted away with the winds of prophecy. "Yes," she said simply.

"Your mother's life was always fated to revolve around prophecy," the Seer said softly. "She knew that, I think, even if she's only thus far seen a little evidence to suggest it."

"I wish I'd known a long time ago."

"I cannot grant you that bequest, but I can tell you of three things yet to come," Cassandra offered. "Perhaps it will help you weather the coming years without bitterness creeping over you again."

"Any three things?"

"Ask your questions, and if I have the answers, I will provide them," Cassandra agreed.

"Will Nicolas and I ever have a child?" Perenelle inquired. They'd been trying for years, with no luck. She'd fallen pregnant once, early in their marriage, but it had only held for six weeks.

"You will, but he will not. His seed is spent, though your womb is still as young as it was when you were wed the first time. You will mother a daughter, but it will come at the price of allowing her father and his wife to raise the girl. You will, in time, meet her again. She will have her father's name, but your mantle. She will have his legacy, but your destiny."

"Well that's cryptic, but at least it wasn't a riddle," Perenelle mused.

"Next inquiry?" Cassandra offered.

"If I have a child with someone other than Nicolas, that presumes he will be gone by the time that happens," Perenelle said thoughtfully. "And as I do not apparently end up with my child's father, I find myself wondering if I will end up alone. Is there any hope for lasting love, so long as I remain immortal?"

"You will love four times in your lifetime, once for each of the reasons you cannot die. The first husband you already know of, as well as your second. Your daughter's father will be the third, though because of his marriage, this will not last. Your affair will be a consented one, as his wife is barren and while he loves her, you love him. You will give him a child born in your love, and he will not realize he feels the same until after his wife is dead. Your fourth and final love will not be met until you are freely using your original name again. My sight ends there, where you are concerned, as does the unending lifeline."

"I'll become mortal again?"

Cassandra nodded. "What is your final inquiry, Perenelle?"

"You've given me some fair clues to who my daughter's father will be, but very little about the last love I'll have. How will I know him?"

"While your heir is marked for darkness, he is a product of that path. Still, he will be good, even while the world assumes the worst for how he came to be. Like you, Hogwarts will be the only real home he's ever known, a bond created with three brothers of the heart, rather than blood. He will have your father's post, but your mother's house. He will cure your broken heart, and you will cure his broken soul."

"Well then," Perenelle sighed. "I suppose that's something to look forward to then."

"Life, love, and happiness, my dear," Cassandra agreed. "It's something we can all look forward to. One more thing though…"

"What?"

"One day, you will find the need to put an heir of mine in a difficult position in order to ensure the prophecy I just spoke to you comes to pass," the Seer replied. "And it _must_ come to pass, or the world will fall into endless darkness, wizarding and muggle alike. Like you will give up a daughter for a time, my descendant must do the same. I tell you this now because you and I will not meet again, and I wanted you to know ahead of time that I forgive you for this, because I know it must be. All of this must be, even if it means two girls will grow up ignorant of the legacy they respectively carry. Yours, and mine."

"So not all sunshine and roses, then?" Perenelle sighed.

"No," Cassandra admitted. "Though that's what makes life interesting, don't you think?"

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	2. Chapter One - So It Begins

**Brace yourselves - many of you have been waiting a LONG time for this chapter!**

* * *

 **So It Begins**

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Hermione Slytherin was exhausted. The Hogwarts Express had arrived this morning with a new batch of refugees, including a good many who were injured. There was a boy - a younger brother of Lavender Brown who Hermione had never even known her former dormmate had - who had nearly died on the table. It was thanks to the skill of Jackie McGonagall that Rowan Brown would live to start Hogwarts next fall. At the moment, Hermione wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and pass out, but it wasn't even dinner time yet and there was still more to do. Minerva was busy helping to furnish the first six levels of Gryffindor Tower, which were usually left open for student overflow, but for the foreseeable future it would house the newly formed Confederation of Magical Cooperation. The group would be the governing body of the refugee camp, and would include members of the Order as well as the Sacred Twenty-Eight. It was a union with the purpose of holding together the wizarding and muggle worlds as war raged around them. Teams of Obliviators had thus far been able to keep the muggle population unaware of the conflict around them, but Hermione feared it wouldn't last.

"Hermione!"

With a heavy sigh and a hunch her already full plate was about to get _more_ full, the Head of the Order turned to face her dear friend Galahad. "Yes?"

"She's here," he said succinctly. "Magnus."

For three weeks, they'd been trying to get ahold of this Helen Magnus woman. The Head of the Sanctuary Network had proven elusive thus far, and they needed her. Griphook was fit to be tied at the delay of a Werewolf representative, but there was little he could do about it as he was hard pressed to find one either. Born Lycans were few and far between to start with, and the ones that did exist seldom remained in the wizarding world, favoring to be far removed from the prejudices that existed here. "Where?" she asked, knowing that for however tired she was at the present, she had a job to do and needed to meet with this woman promptly.

"She said she'd meet you at the top of the Astronomy Tower," Galahad replied.

Hermione frowned. "Interesting choice of location. Though I wonder how she even got in the castle without my knowing."

"Anywhere else in the world, I might have laughed and said that was just how Helen is - getting into places she shouldn't be able to get - but this is Hogwarts, and she's a muggle," he agreed. "Perhaps she has some other contact in the Wizarding World I was unaware of, who might have gotten her in the gate without our knowing."

"I suppose I'll have to go find out."

"Do you wish for me to come with you?" the knight asked gently. "More than a few people know you're seeking Helen Magnus - it might not be her at all. Perhaps a witch or wizard under Polyjuice…"

Hermione laughed. "My friend, I think you've been spending too much time with a certain highly suspicious Potions Master."

Galahad arched an eyebrow. "Indeed. I'll leave you to it then. Send word if you need backup."

With a curt nod, Hermione was off in the same direction she'd come, down two flights of stairs and then along several corridors until she reached the Astronomy Courtyard, and the entrance to the tower itself. From there, it was a winding stair upward twenty five levels before she reached the observation level of Hogwarts' highest tower. Despite being deeply entrenched in the wizarding world, Hermione's muggle roots had adhered to a sense of physical fitness through the years, and despite being already tired before the arduous climb, she was not in the least winded when she stepped out into the summer air.

There were two women waiting for her, though as neither were holding wands she resisted the urge to pull out her own. "Perenelle," she greeted the older of the two tersely, both surprised and not surprised at all to see the elderly woman there. "Am I to surmise that it was you who got Dr. Magnus into the castle without my knowing? Dare I ask why?"

"I needed her to arrange for this meeting, as we were long past due for a reunion." Perenelle replied easily.

"I'd have been glad to meet with you at any time," Hermione frowned, not understanding the need for such a clandestine arrangement. "For what reason would you believe otherwise?"

" _I am not who you believe me to be,"_ the older witch replied in Parseltongue, shocking Hermione. " _And while I needed to tell you, it required utmost secrecy."_

"You speak Parseltongue," Hermione replied in perfectly good English. "Who are you?"

The visage of the old, old woman began dissipating as charmed and transfigured disguises melted away in slow motion as the answer was given, again in Parseltongue. " _Evidently being made into a living horcrux is a way to immortality. Too bad our wayward progeny didn't try that before destroying so many lives_ … _Mother._ "

Hermione's heart thundered as a much younger face she'd never imagined she'd see again appeared before her, only slightly older than the last time they'd seen one another. "Lucy?" she croaked, swaying on her feet, eventually outright falling to the ground.

"See what you've done, Mother?" Helen Magnus snapped, looking irritated as she rushed over to Hermione's position and made quick work of inventorying for injury.

"Mother?" Hermione asked, dazed. "You're her… she's your…you're _my_...?"

"Granddaughter," Helen confirmed, offering a cheeky grin. "And I have a little girl of my own."

"Oh sweet Merlin…" the Head of the Order groaned. "So that's why you were dodging mine and Galahad's calls. You were waiting for… oh gods…"

Lucy Slytherin, no longer under the disguise of Perenelle Flamel, stepped forward and knelt on the ground beside her mother and her daughter. "I've waited a long, long time for this day," she whispered. "I hope that my return will not be… unwelcome."

"Oh, Lucy, never, ever think that!" Hermione exclaimed, pulling her daughter into her arms for a fierce hug. "I loved you then, I love you now, and no amount of history could change that! You're my daughter… my baby girl."

"I told you not to worry," Helen addressed her own mother kindly. "A mother's love is infinite."

"Even when the child inherits her father's stubborn streak," Hermione commented teasingly.

"That stubborn streak has kept me alive," Lucy commented. "Just because I do not age does not mean I cannot be killed. I've had more than a few brushes with death over the centuries."

"Alive!" Hermione said, smacking her forehead. "Helena! My god Lucy, does your sister know you're alive?"

"Would this be the sister I'm named for?" Helen inquired. "Died young?"

"No, she doesn't know," Lucy replied. "And yes, Helen, your namesake."

"How could she know if you're alive, if she's dead?"

"She's a ghost," Hermione explained. "She's here at Hogwarts."

"Bet it was a nasty shock when she told you who she is to you," Lucy said, smirking. "I never did agree with Rowena's reasoning for not telling you. We had many an argument about it, though in the end I suppose the point was moot, you being gone and all by then."

"Rowena might have left a _note_ ," the Head of the Order mused. "To explain. Speaking of explaining, I think that before anything else, there are a few people I believe we need to inform of this… development. They can assist in creating a cover story as to who you are. You intend to join the Order, I trust."

"Yes, Mother," Lucy said, looking like a child for the first time. Even though Lucy was much older than Hermione would likely ever be, the mother and daughter dynamic had stood the test of time. While Lucy was a grown woman, and very much her own person, she would still snap to in the wake of her mother making decisions.

"I bet I can guess who you want to tell, Grandmother," Helen said thoughtfully. "In the last few weeks as I was waiting for Mother to work up the nerve to speak to you, I've become rather familiar with those you work with."

Hermione crinkled her nose at the honorific Helen had bestowed upon her. It wasn't as if she was discounting that was their relation, but Helen seemed to be about her age and it seemed odd to be addressed as such by a peer.

"She's actually older than you, which probably makes it more awkward," Lucy commented, as if reading Hermione's mind. "You'll be what, one hundred and forty six this year?"

It was Helen's turn to crinkle her nose. "Alright, I think we'd better find something else I can call you. That does seem a bit… odd."

"How about we just stick with _Hermione_ ," the youngest of the three women suggested. "Especially given that you're muggle and there are more than a few people after me. I'm certain, from what Galahad has told me, you're more than able to take care of yourself, but I'd rather not paint a target on my only grandchild's back."

"One of two, if you count my daughter Ashley," Helen countered, looking amused. "Or three if you count my ward Henry."

"How'd you end up with Henry?" Hermione wanted to know, having experienced the acquisition of wards in her own right, and thereby curious what this boy's story was and how he came under the care of Helen.

"He's a born Lycan, or Hyper Accelerated Protean. I found him abandoned when he was only five years old. Given the nature of my work, I felt compelled to take him in until other arrangements could be made, however, my then two year old daughter got attached and I couldn't bear to part the two of them."

Hermione smiled broadly. "That's the best news I've heard all day. I'll have to introduce you to Remus, among others. That of course, brings us back to where we started - let's begin collecting people. Do you still want to make your guesses, Helen?"

"Well, Remus Lupin was on the list. Minerva McGonagall, obviously. Severus Snape, probably the Weasleys," Helen listed. "Leland Dourif, and Galahad for certain."

"Add to that list Filius Flitwick and Narcissa Malfoy, and you'd be correct," Hermione praised. With a flick of her wand and a soft small on her face, she ordered her Patronus to seek the listed people and have them report at once to the smaller of the two meeting rooms for Order Headquarters, which were located in the lower levels of the Head Tower. "Lucy, once we've finished with this meeting, I believe it would be prudent for us to go speak to your sister alone. I believe she deserves a private reunion."

"I agree," Lucy replied with a nod. "Helen, are you going to want to bring Ashley and Henry here? If yes, I believe that will need to be a topic of discussion at this meeting as well."

"I'd like to, yes," the other woman said. "I hate to be parted from them for long, but I'd like to stay and help."

"As desperately as I need you to save me from Griphook's wrath," Hermione commented, "I'll make any accommodations for your children to come here to stay, for however long you wish. But what of the Sanctuary Network? I do understand you have other responsibilities…"

"I can make arrangements for someone to run things while I'm elsewise occupied," Helen assured her.

"James?" Lucy asked, as the trio began walking toward the Head Tower.

"He'd be a good option," Helen agreed. "Though he'll have a fit that I'm not letting him join the party here. James always did have a thirst to be where the action was, though in a much different way than John did."

"Yes," Lucy said sourly. " _Much_ different. I still say you should have let me kill him."

Hermione looked aghast. "Young lady!"

Lucy scoffed. "Hardly young, Mother. And you'd have wanted to kill Johnny boy too if you'd met the ponce!"

"A story for another day, I'm sure," Hermione said firmly. "For now, we're nearly there and at least a few of them will already be in the room."

A couple of minutes later, the three women entered the first floor of the Head Tower. A winding staircase rose from inside the ground level's access point, leading them upward. Once inside, they were greeted with the sight of four suits of armor, each holding a shield with the four respective Hogwarts Houses. To the left, there was a door leading to a Potions Lab, though they turned to the right and into the heart of the circular tower itself. Hermione led, her daughter and granddaughter flanking her just behind, into a magnificent chamber with towering bookshelves all the way to the ceiling, though at standing level there was a desk built into the lower shelves, lining all the way around. In the center of the room was a large, round table with twenty-five seats, above which hung a grand, candlelit chandelier.

Impressively, everyone except for Minerva and Galahad had beaten them there, though Molly and Arthur had only just reached the spiral stair when Hermione, Lucy, and Helen entered Order Headquarters, and had gone up ahead of them as to not congest the narrow passage up. Eleven of the seats filled silently, everyone waiting for Hermione to call this meeting to order, and knowing she would not do so until all requested were accounted for. After a minute, Minerva joined the group, and Lucy stood, looking anxious.

The Headmistress gave her lover a look that spoke of curiosity, if not a bit of suspicion. Given that Minerva had seen memories featuring a teenaged Lucy, she'd likely recognize one of the two newcomers as soon as a frame of reference was given. Galahad, however, was the only one of them who had met both Lucy and Helen, and of course he was the last to arrive. In his defense, if Hermione was remembering correctly, he had been helping to stock the med tents down by the gates when he'd brought word of Helen's arrival, and had likely returned there directly after. The poor chap was getting his exercise today, that was for certain.

Another two minutes passed in silence, those already there saying nothing but exchanging curious glances, as if trying to evaluate if any of their tablemates were already in the loop or not. It was decidedly unusual for new Order members to be brought in without at least a few existing members knowing ahead of time, and they all knew beyond any doubt that if these two women were not joining the Order today, they would not have been allowed in this room.

Finally, the sound of footsteps were heard echoing up the spiral stairs, and Galahad was soon visible, walking toward them with purpose. At least, he had been walking with purpose until he spotted Lucy, looking right at him with steady eyes and the threat of a smile on her face. He stopped dead in his tracks. "My god," he whispered. "Lucy?"

Lucy broke out into a wide grin and raced forward and launched into the arms of the immortal knight who had been a strong presence in her childhood. Hermione tore her eyes away from the scene to spare a glance at Minerva, whose eyes had gone wide with understanding. " _Your Lucy?"_ the Scottish witch mouthed.

Hermione nodded, tears threatening to fall as as the reality of the reunion began sinking in, and Minerva stood quickly and pulled her lover into her arms. "What is it with you Slytherin women getting all handsy with Galahad?" she muttered quietly, voice teasing.

Hermione let out a small laugh, and then after quickly wiping her eyes, she cleared her throat. "If you two are quite finished," she addressed Galahad and Lucy, "perhaps we could fill everyone else in?"

The remaining seven nodded in agreement, most of them with an annoyed look on their faces. It seemed to be a common personality trait of Hermione's most trusted that they disliked being left out of the loop. Filius and Arthur seemed to be the only ones content to just wait and see.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Hermione said, directing attention to her granddaughter. "This is Helen Magnus, Head of the Sanctuary Network. She is also custodian to a born Lycan, and with Griphook's approval, will take the Werewolf seat on the Sacred Twenty-Eight."

Many of the group knew that the hunt had been out for Helen, and so simply nodded politely to the newcomer. Remus, Hermione noted, looked highly interested in a woman who'd willingly raise a werewolf, which didn't surprise her at all. After a pause, she continued, pointing toward Lucy.

"This woman," she continued, "some of you may have previously met under the guise of Perenelle Flamel. This is my daughter… Lucy Slytherin."

The room erupted with chatter at once.

* * *

 **~~ooOoo~~**

* * *

Harry Potter sighed contentedly as his boyfriend, Ron Weasley, greeted him with a kiss. They'd been together over a year now, and while they still practiced discretion, their relationship was not a secret. The guys in the dorm had taken things in stride. Neville had been the least surprised of their group of friends, saying that it was kind of inevitable that they'd grow closer as they mourned the loss of Hermione together.

If they only knew.

"What are you thinking about?" Ron asked as they sat down together under the Whomping Willow.

"Hermione," Harry answered. "What the guys know and don't know. How we figured it all out."

Ron chuckled. "Our Hermione at the World Cup having a wand we were pretty sure was identical to your godmother's?"

"Remembering that Sirius had no idea who she was when they met, even though they'd supposedly been married for years?" Harry countered. "And the Marauder's Map telling us that Amelia's name was actually Hermione?"

"You being bloody insane and following 'Mione and Minerva into the Forbidden Forest and overhearing them talking about _the truth of her origins_ ," the redhead groaned in exasperation at Harry's antics. "And hearing them say she was married to Salazar Slytherin."

Harry laughed. "You were personally affronted by that notion, if I remember correctly."

"Yeah, well," Ron said, blushing. "Slytherin! And that was before I got to know Dudley, and Snape. And before Malfoy stopped being a total tosser."

"In fairness, I flipped out over finding out that my supposed godmother had alternative motives for gaining custody of me," Harry appeased his boyfriend. "Remember, that conversation she had with Rita Skeeter?"

"Ugh!" Ron groaned. "You were a mopey mess for weeks! Speaking of rodents, you haven't seen Scabbers, have you? He's been missing all week."

"Then we were both a mess that January, when we heard Mum and Mother talking to Rosmerta about how Mum had gone back in time," Harry said softly. "The world turned upside down when everything clicked into place. And no, haven't seen Scabbers. Might have worried that Crookshanks got to him, but he's with Madam Malkin, and she's not set to move to the castle till later this week."

"Maybe he'll still turn up," the other teen said, frowning. "But yeah, I kinda feel like we should offer a belated apology to Dean, Seamus, and Neville for our behavior that week. We were jerks."

"I think we're making up for it by not snogging in front of them," Harry teased, grinning. "Speaking of…"

A warm feeling settled over the dark haired teen as he pressed his lips to Ron's. His boyfriend fell back on the grass with a grunt, pulling Harry half on top of him, as to not break the kiss. His hands began sliding under Ron's shirt, and Ron's hand reached around and settled firmly in Harry's back pocket. They didn't usually get quite this physical - they agreed they weren't ready for sex - but Merlin, this felt good!

Harry's mind was toiling over what felt good versus a desire to pull away before they took things too far, when a decision was made for them in the form of a rush of ice cold water being dumped on them. They sprang apart, both rearing to engage their assailant, but stopped dead in their tracks when they saw who it was.

"Er, hi Severus!" Harry said cheerfully, despite his guilt for even needing his surrogate father to step in and exercise good judgment on their behalf. "Nice day, right?"

The Potions Professor raised an eyebrow. "Do I need to have Arthur give you boys _the talk_?"

"No, sir!" Ron yelped, going red at the thought of his own father sitting them down for… that.

"Did you need something?" Harry asked tersely, hoping to move conversation anywhere but where they were.

"I've just come from a meeting with Hermione, Minerva, and some others. Your parents as well, Ronald," Severus reported. "I've been sent to... _fetch_ … you two. You're to head home. By home, I mean Harry to the tower, and Ron, your parents have taken up lodging on the ground floor of the Herbology Tower. With you and your siblings all having space in the dorms or elsewhere in the castle, they've offered to play parents to the orphans this atrocity of a war is bound to create. The first two floors of the Herbology Tower will serve as an Orphanage Wing from here on out."

"I was wondering where they were going to stay," Ron commented. "Thanks, sir. I'll head there now."

The redhead pressed a chaste kiss to Harry's lips with a crooked smile on his face. "See ya later," he said, before he bounded off up the hill toward the east gate, leading into the castle.

"I'll walk you to the Head Tower," Severus offered, looking uncertain.

Harry knew that Severus was making an effort to be more available to him - to be more of a father - and it meant more than the teen could express. While he loved Hermione and Minerva, his Mum and Mother, and he loved his brother and sister, he still felt it was important for him to have a father figure in his life. How else was he going to learn what it meant to be a grown wizard if he was surrounded by a bunch of witches? In another life, it would have been James Potter who would have talked to him about career options, and dating, and sticking up for himself without being a dick about it. But James was dead, and Harry needed a father. "Thanks," he said quietly to the man as they slowly followed the path Ron had just taken at a dead run.

"For what?" Severus asked, puzzled. "I am merely going in the same direction you are, and so since it's not out of my way I might as well see you don't get… detoured, en route to the Head Tower."

"For being here for me," Harry said, voice still low. "I don't say it enough, but it means a lot."

Harry half expected Severus to shrug off the comment, but instead the older man stopped, and put a hand on Harry's shoulder, forcing the boy to turn and look at him. "For whatever reason the fates deemed, you have selected me of all people to fill the role that James Potter left open," he said solemnly. "I cannot fathom what you see in me as any sort of mentor, but I do take your trust in me seriously, and I will do whatever I can to ensure your safety. Physically, as well as mentally and emotionally. No thanks are required, Harry, because there never should be between a son and his father. It is not an affection that needs to be earned. It is given freely."

Tears threatened to escape green eyes as Harry leaned forward into Severus' waiting arms, holding on for dear life to the most precious gift of all. "I love you too… dad," he muttered.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW! With luck I'll get another chapter out before Christmas, but no promises. I agreed to have it started by Christmas. It's started. Can't wait to hear what you guys think so far!**


	3. Chapter Two - Changing Tides

**At long, long last, I offer a new chapter of Seeking Time. I've spent the last year go over my plot lines, trying to work out kinks I was running into, and at this point I've mostly worked all of that out, so with a little luck we're getting this story moving again. My Lost Founder series is a merging of Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Sanctuary, and the Librarians. The further along this story gets, the more characters from the non-Potterverse series will be showing up, so if you aren't familiar with them, I'd encourage you to look up these shows. I will explain things as I go so if you're not into the other series you can still enjoy THIS, but you'll enjoy it more if you go ahead and binge watch Buffy, Sanctuary, and Librarians. Now, A TON happens in this chapter, so pay attention. Ready? Set? GO!**

* * *

"I don't like it," Severus claimed, shifting uncomfortably in the stiff, highly formal robes he was being forced to wear. "I did not agree to this nonsense."

Minerva chuckled at the new Head of both the Prince family, and of the newly formed Wizarding Confederation. With the Ministry's fall, and the union of five magical schools under Hermione's diplomatic finesse and hours of work with Mister Chang and her brother Robert, the new formation of a governing body had taken place, and a leader had of course needed to be elected. Given that Britain and Hogwarts were on the front line of the war against Voldemort, a British leader seemed appropriate. While Hermione had been the first choice of both Olympe and Igor, both having worked with her before, and Minerva had been first choice so far as the Heads of Ilvermorny and Mahoutokoro were concerned, both she and her partner had turned down the job, feeling it too much to take on with their respective prior appointments. Severus, baffled as he was at the notion, had been second choice to all four Heads, and they really hadn't been willing to take _no_ for an answer. As such, Annabeth had stepped down as Head of the Prince family to provide Severus with a title the purebloods would respect, and the newly christened Severus Prince had officially become _Lord Prince, Regent of the Wizarding Confederation_. "Come now, Severus, uncomfortable clothing is a small price to pay considering the gains of an organized government," she offered.

"I still don't have to like it," he grumbled. "Any of it. I didn't ask for this, Minerva, and I'm not convinced Hermione didn't hit me with a _confundus_ in order to get me to agree to take the position."

"She didn't, I assure you," Minerva soothed.

"What about you?" Severus accused half-heartedly.

"I'm afraid not," she said, patting him on the shoulder. "You got into this all by yourself. I don't envy you, though. It's a hell of a thing - _Lord Regent of the Wizarding Confederation_. There hasn't been a union of world wide Wizarding society since before the founding of Hogwarts. Merlin knows I wouldn't wish war in any universe, but the international cooperation that has resulted is...well, I'll be proud to tell future generations that I was witness to the birth of world peace."

"Assuming the Dark Lord doesn't kill us all and disband the Confederation before we can really see the positive results of such international cooperation," the Potions Master replied. "I must admit, however, that I'm also… _proud_ , to be a part of this. It bothers me that Hermione won't get the recognition she deserves in all of this. History never remembers the people in the background, and she's intent on doing just that - staying in the background."

Minerva nodded in agreement, though she certainly understood Hermione's desire to remain out of the spotlight. "We need to get going."

He nodded curtly, and Severus and Minerva walked out of his quarters and made directly for the lower levels of Gryffindor Tower. While students occupied the upper levels, the first six levels of the tower had been empty and collecting dust for years, and had now been converted to office space for the newly formed Confederation. In the last two months, Hermione and Robert, along with the Heads of Durmstrang, Ilvermorny, Beauxbatons, and Mahoutokoro - who had been authorized by their own fragmented governments to act as representatives of their respective countries, had worked tirelessly with Helen Magnus from the Sanctuary, Jon Dinklage from the Library, Quentin Travers from the Watcher's Council, and Hector Stewartson representing the magical creatures division, to compose a _magna carta_ of sorts. The Confederation Charter would be signed today, in just a few minutes' time, establishing a code of conduct and a description of rights for this reforged magical world. Minerva smiled softly when she recalled the closing lines of the the Charter they were all about to sign.

" _In the unanimous decision of the thirteen states of Magical Society, we agree it becomes necessary for, as one people, to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and form a new government laid out to preserve future generations. We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all creatures are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. Whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience has shown, that creatures are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute tyranny, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security. We must, therefore, abandon our fragmented governments lost in the wake of war, usurpation, and a long trail of political abuses, and solemnly publish and declare, that these United Magical States do so form a new government which sees to the care, protection, and growth of all these states involved. We pledge a lasting peace among ourselves, by way of continued cooperation and in the interest of all."_

"Are you ready?" she asked as the pair arrived at their destination. Merlin knew Severus had more right to be terrified of today's signing than any of them, and they each had plenty right to be terrified, too. This document, once signed, would effectively be declaring war on Voldemort and any future Dark Lord, uniting branches of the magical community that had not united in known history, and forming a governing body which would either bring about an era of peace unlike they'd ever known, or create a powder keg just waiting to explode when peoples who had only ever known separation realized they couldn't survive together. It was a risk they had to take, however, because they all knew that with the rising evil, they had no chance of surviving apart.

Severus let out a ragged breath, his thoughts seemingly similar to her own. "Let's go make history," he said softly, "one way or another."

* * *

Dudley Dursley smiled softly at his girlfriend Luna as she engaged in a staring contest with Professor Trelawney. The two of them had been doing that a lot lately. Sometimes they were across the Great Hall from one another, and sometimes they were close enough to touch, but they just looked at each other, not saying a word. He'd asked Luna about it, and all she would say was that the Professor had something to tell her, and she was simply giving her due attention. What Hogwarts' strangest Professor had to tell Luna was anybody's guess.

Of course, Dudley's definition of _strange_ no longer included words like _freaky_ or _bad_. There was nothing wrong with being strange - being different - he'd learned. The person he used to be might disagree, but the teenager had accepted that his younger self had been in dire need of the harsh life lessons he'd been dealt. A part of him felt like, with as cruel as he'd been to Harry back then, he had deserved it to have to suffer through the loss of his parents in such a cruel way. His Mum - Hermione, that was - regularly tried to assure him that his mother's death hadn't been his fault, or any sort of karma for how he'd behaved, but he still had a hard time believing it. That said, Luna was helping with that. Any time he said that he didn't deserve her love, she just laughed at him and called him a dummy.

"I think I'm done speaking with the Professor," Luna declared after a few minutes of staring at Trelawney across the courtyard they'd been passing through. The older witch, upon Luna's breaking eye contact, let out a small whimper and began to walk away distractedly. Before she or Dudley and Luna could leave the area, Trelawney walked full force into Lucy Slytherin. Hermione's daughter - Dudley was still trying to wrap his head around _that_ development - frowned when the Professor reared on her.

"Out of my way!" she shouted. "You're always in the way! It's always your fault!"

With that said, Trelawney stormed off, and Dudley moved over to Lucy's position to try to explain. She was new to Hogwarts, and she couldn't be used to what the students referred to as _Trelawney's Temperament._ "Uh," he said softly. "I'm sure she didn't mean all that. She's just…"

"No need to explain, Mister Dursley," Lucy assured.

"Just _Dudley_ is fine, ma'am," he muttered. "Technically I'm your little brother."

Lucy smirked. "Yes, so I hear. You, as well as Harry Potter. And I've a sister in young Emma, too. I really need to make time to get to know the three of you, don't I?"

"Well, you don't have to," he said, blushing.

"But he'd like that very much," Luna added on his behalf. "He's the eldest between the three of them, and he likes the idea of having an older sibling to look out for him."

"My girlfriend, Luna Lovegood," he introduced with a wry grin.

"We've met before," Lucy said quietly. "Though you were very young and I appeared much older, so I'd not be surprised if you didn't make the connection."

Luna's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You knew my mother," she said. It wasn't a question.

The older witch nodded, and Dudley observed an expression of guilt on her face as she tore her eyes away from Luna's gaze. "I did. Now, if you'd excuse me, Dudley, Miss Lovegood - I've business to attend to. I will make a priority of setting aside time to get to know you, Harry, and Emma."

"Of course," he agreed, feeling rather perplexed at the exchange between his girlfriend and sister. "What was that about," he asked Luna once Lucy was gone.

Luna sighed. "I don't really know. I mean, I don't remember her, like she expected, but despite that I felt like I should be angry with her for some reason. And I knew it had something to do with my mother."

"Well Mum says Lucy's basically been around forever, so she's met tons of people I'd expect. Makes you wonder though, since she knew your mum and she was looking a bit guilty about it, what exactly happened between them," he mused.

"Well," Luna considered. "Either it had something to do with her life, or something to do with her death, and since being in someone's life usually doesn't cause guilty feelings after someone has died, it's more likely that it had something to do with her death. Which begs the question…"

"If she had something to do with the explosion?" Dudley finished.

"Yes," Luna agreed.

Dudley decided that he didn't like seeing Luna frown, but before he could muster up some form of cheer to put a smile back on her face, her hair started blowing in a wind that had come out of nowhere, and her eyes glazed over.

" _Two and two make Founders four,_

 _As history clearly tells,_

 _But from the Lost One will be born,_

 _The future out of knells._

 _The firstborn's time to rise is near_

 _In city Angels run -_

 _He and she will switch for years,_

 _And he will know no one."_

"Luna?" Dudley breathed as the wind died down and her eyes cleared.

"I just spoke a prophecy, didn't I?" she asked calmly as soon as she'd caught her breath. "About you and your brother and sisters."

"What?" he exclaimed. "What are you talking about?"

"Four founders of Hogwarts," she said patiently. "History knows this, but they don't know about the Lost Founder - Hermione, that is. She has two living sons and two living daughters, all of which have known the sting of death."

"Death!" he gaped. "When was there any talk about death?"

"A knell is a special bell only rung after someone has died," Luna explained before continuing to explain. The city of Angels, well, I think that's talking about Los Angeles, California, over in America. The firstborn must be Lucy. I think I'll need to get permission to go with her to California. We have a meeting we can't miss. I suspect a dimensional rift."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "It's obvious, isn't it?"

He decided to just take her word at it. "Well I'm not letting you go anywhere with Lucy by yourself. Not considering there's a chance she had something to do with your mum's death."

"Severus won't let you go without him," Luna said pointedly.

Severus Prince, while pseudo-father to him, Harry, and Emma, was particularly attached to Dudley and everyone knew it. It wasn't about playing favorites, but rather about belonging. Harry belonged to Hermione, Emma belonged to Minerva, and Dudley, well, he belonged to Severus. Dudley didn't mind in the slightest. "Well, then he can come, too."

"With the Rooms of Requirement up and running now, it won't even take that long," Luna concluded. "All we have to do is convince Lucy and Severus."

"Or we convince Mum and she'll just make them go," Dudley suggested.

Luna smiled at him. "I knew you were a smart wizard."

* * *

A little over two weeks after the signing of the Confederation Charter, Hermione Slytherin called out to the blur that was her youngest daughter running through their quarters. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"Promised to help Mrs. Weasley in the Orphanage today!" Emma explained, still moving toward the door. "Late! Love you! Gotta go!"

Emma's commitment to helping out with the growing number of orphans Molly and Arthur had taken charge of reminded Hermione of her own commitment to meet with Jackie McGonagall and Janet Hammond in about fifteen minutes. She got up, put her book on the table beside the sofa, and followed after the echoing footfalls of her daughter. With the fall of Mungo's, medical facilities had needed to be set up here at Hogwarts to compensate.

In fact, it seemed lately that the whole of the Wizarding world was being packed into the castle. The lower levels of Gryffindor Tower were housing the Confederation offices, the Order was in the Head Tower under her own quarters, the Room of Requirement was effectively a department of international cooperation, and the Quidditch Pitch had been converted into a shopping center housing much of what used to be Diagon Alley. Then of course the Forbidden Forest was getting more and more crowded with various Magical creatures, part of the Herbology Tower had become an orphanage, and the Goblins had taken over a chunk of the Dungeons to set up a bank. The whole setup was complete with all classrooms in the Defense Tower being moved elsewhere in the castle to make room for a hospital. Poppy's Medical Wing had been left undisturbed for student use, once September arrived and term began again. No matter how much change was happening in the magical community just now, Minerva had continued to insist that come September, there would be a place for people to learn magic. In fairness, Igor, Olympe, Agilbert, and Miyagi were all keeping their own schools running too, though none of them were housing refugees. They were, however, accommodating transport for those trying to escape Britain.

"Janet, Jackie," Hermione greeted, stepping into the office on the ground level which she'd been directed to meet the mediwitches in. "What can I do for you today?"

"It's the long-term patients," Jackie stated without preamble. "We don't have the staff to take care of all the injured coming in on top of the long term patients."

"How many of those do you even have?" Hermione questioned. "I was under the impression that wing was hit pretty hard before the evacuation was even underway. Most of those patients were killed."

"Two," Janet replied. "But you must understand, Hermione, they require supervision twenty-four hours a day. We've been managing by pulling long shifts, but just yesterday the mediwizard watching the Longbottoms fell asleep at his post, Alice got out and decided to interrupt a surgery Jackie was doing, which nearly resulted in the loss of the patient."

"Right," Hermione remembered. "Augusta had them removed from Mungo's not long after the Sacred Twenty-Eight formed. Before the attack."

"Yes, and at first we were having no issue minding them," Jackie put in. "But that was before we had a trainload of injuries to tend to every other day. We need either more staff, or they need to be taken care of elsewhere."

Hermione considered what was being said, and knew the two women were right. She could not just put a _help wanted_ advert in the paper to get them more help, but she really couldn't spare any Order members to watch Alice and Frank day in and day out. Given that they could be used as a tool to get to Augusta and her seat on the Council, they couldn't be guarded by just anyone.

"What is their condition?" she asked, trying to get a better picture of their needs. "Why do they require the care they do?"

"They were tortured into insanity by Bellatrix Lestrange back about the time the Potters were killed," Jackie answered. "They seem to understand language, but only have rudimentary communication skills. They were both Aurors back in the day, and Alice was incredible with wandless magic, which she uses to conduct her little escapes like yesterday."

"Frank couldn't have been bad at wandless magic either," Janet said. "According to the file, he taught the rookies basic Occlumency before they were put into the field. The ability to shield your mind comes in handy when someone is trying to put you under the _Imperius_. And most Occlumens are at least decent at wandless magic. Lucky for us, he usually pranks the staff rather than trying to escape."

Hermione frowned. "Stands to reason Alice was an Occlumens as well, right?"

Both women nodded. "What does that even matter, though?" Jackie wanted to know.

The Head of the Order groaned. "Honestly, don't you two read? Artemeus' Integumentum Theory?"

Janet had, evidently, read the paper in question, and her eyes widened at the implication. "I can't believe nobody has considered that! Ugh! I'm such an idiot!"

"Fill me in?" Jackie inquired, a bit sour at being out of the loop.

"Artemeus' Integumentum Theory suggests in the event of trauma, a proficient Occlumens could create a shield around their mind to protect it from actual damage. The downside of this concept is that once created, someone else would have to break down the shield, because it's created specifically so a traumatized mind couldn't undo the barrier under duress. To an outside viewer, all that would remain of the original caster is their base instincts and an almost childlike functionality, making someone inflicting trauma believe they'd succeeded in breaking their victim, hopefully stopping the onslaught."

Jackie looked very interested. "So you're saying prank playing Frank and escape artist Alice might be mentally sound behind a barrier they themselves made to prevent the very thing they appear to be suffering?"

"It's worth looking at," Hermione said. "If yes, then not only will you get two fewer patients out of the deal, but I'll get two new Aurors."

"If you try to break this so-called barrier, and there was no barrier to start with," Minerva's sister-in-law posed, "would it harm the Longbottoms? Could they end up worse than they are if they really are just as traumatized as we thought they were?"

Hermione shook her head _no_. "The barrier in Artemeus' Theory is on a psychic level, not a physical one. If there's nothing there to break down, the spell would just harmlessly pass through them."

"So nothing to lose by trying," Janet reasoned.

"Well, I'd insist on getting Augusta's permission first, regardless," Jackie replied, flicking her wand and sending a patronus to Frank's mother, asking her to come to the Hospital Tower at once.

Augusta, decidedly alarmed at such a message, arrived in only a few minutes' time and after an explanation of the proposed procedure, the Head of the Longbottom family agreed. Hermione offered to send for Neville before they tried, but Augusta didn't want to get the boy's hopes up.

Hermione, Jackie, Janet, and Augusta made for the classroom that had been converted into Frank and Alice's room directly, and after a deep breath, the Head of the Order offered a silent prayer for Neville's sake, and raised her wand. " _Legilimens_ ," she whispered, pointing first at Alice.

It didn't take more than a few minutes for Hermione to find the barrier she was looking for, though breaking it down took nearly a half hour, leaving both her and Alice breathless as they collapsed on the ground. "About...bloody...time," the former Auror panted. "Thanks, whoever you are."

"Oh sweet Merlin," Augusta gasped. "Alice."

* * *

Emma McGonagall greeted Helen Magnus, who was bringing her daughter Ashley and ward Henry into the Orphanage Wing to visit with the other kids. "Hi Doctor Magnus," she said.

Helen smiled at her. "Just call me _Helen_ , Emma. You're my Aunt, after all."

"Yeah, but don't start calling me _Aunt Emma_ ," the teenager pleaded. "That would be so weird."

"Just Emma, I promise," Helen assured her. "How are you holding up here?"

"Oh, I'm doing fine," she said. "I'm young enough to keep up with all the munchkins. Mrs. Weasley could use a break, to be honest. She's done something to her back - keeps holding onto it like it hurts - but every time I tell her to go sit down she just pats me on the head like I'm a little kid."

Helen glanced over at Molly, frowning. "She's sweating."

Emma checked over her shoulder and confirmed what Helen was saying. "That's new."

"Molly, are you feeling alright?" Helen called, moving toward the red-haired witch. "Emma says you've got a backache."

Less inclined to be dismissive of an actual doctor than she was of Emma's concerns, Molly sighed. "Started that way. Backache, and now cramping. I wonder if I've got a kidney stone."

The Head of the Sanctuary Network moved to press her hand on Molly's abdomen. "Molly, when was your last menstrual cycle?"

The other women shrugged. "What is it? Middle of May? A while before Christmas, I think. That time of a witch's life, you know."

Helen chuckled. "Or you've been pregnant for at least the last six months and you've gone into labor."

Molly's eyes widened. "No… I couldn't possibly be... Arthur!"

The Weasley patratch wasn't far from his wife, and casually ambled over. "What is it, dear?" he asked, oblivious to her pain.

"You are in so much trouble, mister," she said, glowering at him as another cramp - something she now identified as a contraction - rushed over her. "I thought you had your bits taken care of!"

"My… what?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"Arthur, it appears you're about to be a father again," Helen explained. "We'd best get her over to the Hospital Tower."

"I don't think we have that kind of time," Emma muttered, noicing a pool of clear liquid forming at Molly's feet. When she wasn't helping at the orphanage, Emma spent a good deal of time working in the Hospital Tower and this wasn't the first time she'd seen someone's water break.

"I quite think you're right," Helen muttered.

Arthur called out to two women who were also regular helpers in the Orphanage, issuing orders for them to mind the children, as well as Helen's two. "Our room is through that door," he said, pointing. Emma moved quickly ahead to open the door while Arthur and Helen assisted Molly in walking over. "What else can I do?" she asked as the laboring woman lay on the bed.

"You've been helping in the hospital, yes?" Helen asked the teen.

"Yeah," Emma replied. "Mondays and Thursdays."

"Then you just got promoted to nurse," Helen ordered. "Arthur, if you'd kindly send a Patronus to Hermione and Minerva, I believe they should know a new Wardling is about to be born. Also, you'd better alert Rupert. I have a hunch that you're about to get a second daughter."

Mr. Weasley did as he was told without asking questions and ten minutes later, Minerva, Hermione, and Rupert walked into the room just in time to hear Helen confirm that Molly was fully dilated and could begin pushing when the next contraction hit.

"I'm cutting off your bollocks as soon as I get this kid out," Molly declared.

Emma chuckled at the way both Mr. Weasley and Mr. Giles moved their hands protectively toward their crotches. _Men_.

"Molly, I didn't know you were pregnant," Minerva commented.

"She didn't either," Emma answered for the laboring woman, to which Molly nodded vigorously.

"Not to be rude," Rupert asked, addressing Helen. "But while I certainly appreciate the miracle of life, I'm not sure why I've been invited to witness the birth of this child. I'm hardly close to the Weasleys."

Helen didn't spare him a glance, but she did explain. "Because on my way down here you told me that word had reached you of India Cohen's death, which occurred this morning. Molly is not full term, I can assure you of that, nor has she suffered a trauma that might promote an early labor. As such, I suspect that the child about to arrive is a girl, and that she's a Potential. You know the spells to confirm that."

Rupert looked shocked. "A magical Potential? That's unheard of!"

"I could be wrong," Helen agreed. "But firstly I do not believe in coincidence, and secondly, I seldom am wrong, and thirdly, if I'm correct then you're about to witness history in the making. So humor me."

"Consider yourself humored," Rupert agreed. "And good lord, you sound just like Hermione."

Hermione chuckled. "Yes, you rather did just then."

"Blood is blood," Helen mused. "Now, Molly, push!"

Half an hour later, a small, but healthy baby girl was being laid in Molly's arms, and a few minutes after that, Rupert was able to confirm - surprise, surprise - that Helen had been right about the girl being a _Potential_ , whatever that was. Emma had remained mostly quiet through the whole thing, but now that the panic was wearing off, she stopped to appreciate the newborn baby.

"We're calling her Vala Emmelia Weasley," Molly announced after conferring in hushed tones with her husband. "Emmelia after you, Emma. I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't alerted Helen to my condition. She'd have come and left and I'd have been without help when I realized what was happening. That kind of panic could have cost us the baby's life. Thank you for being so observant, young lady."

Emma blushed a shade of red to make a Weasley proud.

"And Hermione and Minerva," Arthur added. "Of course, you'll be godparents. War on and all, we trust that if something happens to us, you'll make sure our youngest grows up safe and sound."

"Not one of your older children?" Hermione questioned.

"If something happens, it'll likely happen because of the war," Arthur explained. "Even Bill, with his wife, would be hard pressed to take on a baby in the wake of losing his parents. And it wouldn't be fair to Fleur to force her to be a first time mum in the wake of all this. If you'll agree, this one goes to you."

Hermione glanced at Minerva, who nodded. "Of course we'll accept," the Headmistress agreed. "Though Merlin forbid we need to fill that role. This little girl deserves more than that."

Emma's gut lurched at the scene unfolding before her, thinking of the prophecy that Luna had made that had set Dudley, Severus, Luna, and Lucy on a trip to California. From what Dudley had written, they'd met a creature called _Lorne_ and were helping him acclimate to life in a dimension that was decidedly not his own. The prophecy had talked about four offspring of Hermione's, and they'd assumed it meant Lucy, Dudley, Harry, and herself. But what if they were wrong? What if Lucy wasn't a part of the prophecy at all? Emma wondered if she, Dudley, and Harry were destined to get another sister before the end. What if the baby girl Mum and Mother had just agreed to take in if something happened to the Weasleys was meant to be that sister?

She could hardly bear the idea of this baby having to live with the knowledge of dead parents like she and her brothers did.

The teen's train of thought was broken as the door to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's rooms opened and in walked Severus and Dudley, obviously having returned from America. Likely, they'd inquired where Hermione and Minerva were and been directed here.

"So…" Dudley said awkwardly, taking in the scene he'd stumbled into. "What did we miss?"

* * *

 **A/N - Yes, I did use the Declaration of Independence as a template for the Confederation Charter. PLEASE REVIEW!**


	4. Chapter Three - Heirs

**Well, this is a bit on the short side by my standards, but honestly I didn't think I could put any more into this chapter without making it "too much". Hope you enjoy, and Happy Holidays to all of you!**

* * *

Rupert Giles' jaw fell. "Ex-excuse me?" he stuttered. "What happened to Merrick?"

Quentin Travers raised an eyebrow. "What happens to many Watchers. He was killed in the line of duty, and as such, Miss Summers is in need of a new Watcher. You've been selected."

"But I have commitments here, Quentin," Rupert argued, still a bit shocked that he'd been chosen to work with _the Slayer_. It was an honor, to be sure, but considering his rather colorful past, he'd never expected it to be an honor he'd have. Further, he wasn't sure he deserved it.

"The Watcher's seat on the Sacred Twenty-Eight is at the discretion of the Watcher's Council. I've already spoken with Lady Slytherin and Lord Griphook, and they've agreed to accept Christopher Botwell in your place. You have until July twelfth to set your affairs in order and get to California. Of course, with the Room of Requirement and portkeys at your disposal, you can at least avoid the transatlantic flight," Quentin reported.

"That's not even two weeks."

"Yes, and there's much to do," the older Watcher agreed, "as Griphook conditioned your release upon sending an Order member with you, undercover of course. You need to select someone who would believably pass as a Watcher in training. Ideally, this person would be young enough to at least appear to be of age to still be in primary school, as you will be working at the Library in the public school Miss Summers will be attending. The candidate would ideally become a fellow student of hers."

"Dear lord, man," Rupert groaned. "You cannot be expecting me to take on the Slayer _and_ mind another youth on top of that!"

"It's the condition that Griphook required, Rupert," Quentin sighed. "And as much as I wish I could simplify things and assign someone else to be Miss Summers' Watcher, the coven up in Devon insists they've seen you as her Watcher. I cannot work against that."

The younger man nodded, knowing he really didn't have a choice in the matter any more than Quentin seemed to. The Slayer and Watcher bond was rarely foretold, but when it was and the Watcher's Council dared defy the seen pairing, the Watcher assigned and Slayer tended to both end up dead before long. It wasn't worth the risk. "I understand."

"If I may make a suggestion, regarding your Order member companion…" Quentin posed just before he walked out of Rupert's quarters. "Mister Ronald Weasley would be ideal for a number of reasons. By all accounts, he's got a keen mind for strategy, and is otherwise quite adaptable even under stress. Further, with his newborn sister being the first known magical Slayer potential, he and his family may appreciate the opportunity to get a start on understanding what all that implies."

"He's just turned sixteen," Rupert said dismissively. "Thus, he's not an Order member."

"But he's been fighting beside young Mister Potter for longer than the rest of us," came an easy counter. "I think Lady Slytherin and Lord Griphook would look past his minority considering how well suited he is to the task. There would only need to be his parents' permission."

"And his agreement."

Quentin shook his head. "Unlike you, youth does not seem to have hindered Mister Weasley's ability to do his duty. The boy will do what he's asked, have no doubt of that. Even if his parents tell him that it's his choice."

The jibe stung, but Rupert supposed it was justified. Further, he'd run out of reasons to not consider Ron as an ideal companion. They already knew one another decently well, so it wouldn't be like having to move in with a complete stranger, and Quentin was on the mark regarding his virtues to the cause. More than that, at least it would be one person in his life from whom he didn't have to hide his past, as by Ron's connection to Harry, and through Harry to Severus, the young man already knew a fair bit about his past. Also, Rupert considered with a wry grin, Ron's dedication to Harry was absolute, so he'd not have to worry about his young companion becoming distracted by a school full of attractive young people who'd find a new British exchange student highly desirable.

"I'll speak with Hermione," Rupert promised, and with a curt nod Quentin was out the door and gone.

* * *

Galahad found himself in the most curious company. Severus Prince, a fellow adult, wasn't that surprising he supposed, but the fact that the two of them were chatting amicably and seriously with two teenage boys was a bit unsettling to the immortal Knight. Dudley Dursley had been speaking with his surrogate father when Galahad had happened upon the two of them, and almost immediately after greeting them, Ronald Weasley had come seeking his Potions Professor.

"Professor...er...Lord Regent, sir…" Ron greeted. "I was wondering if I might have a word."

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Ronald, just call me _Severus_ ," the recently elected governing head growled. "I get enough of that _Lord Regent_ bollocks from the Council."

"Right," the red-haired teen replied, offering a grin. "I was wondering if you could give me some advice - I've been asked to travel with Rupert to America to help him with the Slayer. I'd be living with him, and while I think he's a decent enough chap, I could hardly claim to know him. Before I commit to something I'm sure Harry's gunna be livid over, I'd like to know what sort of bloke Rupert really is, and 'Mione told me to talk to you about it."

Severus and Galahad both frowned, and the elder man imagined their thoughts were quite similar. That was an Order task, and Ronald had only just turned sixteen. "Hermione approves of sending you on a mission?" he voiced.

"It was Mister Travers idea," Ron replied, "or so I'm told. But it makes sense. Not only am I disposable here, but my areas of strength could be used to help Rupert out - tactics and so forth - but with Vala being a Slayer potential, someone in her family really ought to make an effort to learn what she's gunna need to know when she grows up. Further, being as young as I am, I could pass as a transfer student at the same school the Slayer attends - muggle of course - which would allow me to watch her more closely than Rupert could. As much as I don't want to leave Harry, or any of the rest of you lot, I _do_ want to do my part in this fight, and I'm aware enough of tactical maneuvering to understand that not being on the front lines doesn't make you any less vital to the cause."

"If nothing else," Severus commented, "years as a spy taught me the truth in that statement, Ronald. I cannot argue the logic of the situation, even if I'm loathe to consider someone as young as yourself being saddled with such responsibility."

"Order member or not," Ron replied, "I do understand duty, and I'm not going to use _childhood_ as an excuse to refuse the task. Merlin knows I stopped being a kid ages ago - been through too much, you know? But, back to my original question, if Rupert and I can't get along, it'll be detrimental to the mission, so I need some insight on who he is."

"Did you consider just asking Rupert?" Dudley inquired.

"Figured he'd likely gloss over his faults, and…" the other teen blushed, glancing at his Professor. "...Severus is more likely to exaggerate his flaws, given the history of both their relationship, and of his tendency to be brutally honest in any case."

"Twenty points to Gryffindor," Severus said with a smirk. "For someone _finally_ recognizing I'm a mean old bat."

Ron grinned, knowing damn well how rare it was that the Head of Slytherin House awarded points to Gryffindor. It faded quickly, however, when Dudley pointedly remarked on how term was not in session, so it didn't count.

"To answer your question, Ronald," the Potions Master continued. "Rupert is, overall, a decent man. He tends to be tidy, but not obsessively so unless it is concerning his books or weapons collection. He can pick up an easy conversation with just about anyone - from muggle to Death Eater, and make them feel at ease. His biggest flaw is that he needs to feel useful, and when he doesn't he gets short tempered. In the face of grief, he will act rashly, so watch for that. Further, you'll need to be understanding of the fact that he's a child of two worlds. You only know him as a wizard, but the fact of the matter is that he's lived almost strictly muggle for the better part of his adult life. His father, who was also a Watcher, wanted an heir to his mantle and while he had two sons, both were magical like their mother. Robert learned to be alright with not measuring up to their father, but Rupert still feels very conflicted about his place in the world. In many ways, I think he's ashamed of his magic - it has more often gotten him into harm's way than it has helped him, and his father's constant badgering about his duty to the Watchers hasn't helped."

Ron took all the information in quietly, and Galahad marveled at how maturely the teen was handling the information. Most boys about his age would see a pile of blackmail being handed to him, but this young man seemed more concerned for the Watcher's well-being than anything else. After all these years, Galahad prided himself on being able to read people quite well, and if this young man's body language and tender tone were anything to go on, Ron was taking the information about Rupert and mentally evaluating it, not for the sake of being able to use it against the older wizard, but to use it to help him. What doubt Galahad had about Ronald's readiness to take on this mission vanished on the spot.

"So, Dudley," Ron said in a more cheerful voice, bringing the immortal's attention back to the conversation at hand. "How was California? Looks like I'm gunna need to know."

Dudley grinned. "We met this bloke, who was from a demon dimension called Pylea, named Lorne. Of all his people, he's the only one who likes music. How weird is that?"

"Very weird," Ron agreed. "Harry said you used some of Vernon's contacts out there to help your friend open a nightclub."

"Yeah, the old man will be livid when he finds out," Dudley remarked, offering a smirk that Galahad _knew_ he had stolen from Severus. "I also liquidated a few of the stocks Vernon had in Grunnings, which gave Lorne about sixty thousand American dollars to start up with. Of course, that's a loan. I'll get it back with interest, over the next twelve years. I kind of feel like I found my calling out there - helping Lorne get started was a blast, and when I factor in the fact that I've got connections, through Mum and Mother and Dad, in all the branches of the magical community, I could really help them intermingle business wise, which would ultimately help develop a more stable economy, in and out of the muggle world!"

Ron was grinning, happy for his friend, obviously not taking note of how Dudley had just addressed Severus. Galahad, however, did. "Dad?" he inquired, eyeing the Potions Master.

The pale, dark haired Head of the Prince line offered a small smile. "While in California, Dudley and I discussed the possibility of my naming him heir to the Prince line. I had already discussed the matter with Hermione and Minerva, and they'd given their approval."

"And I said _yes_ of course!" Dudley inputted.

"Good on you, Dud!" Ron cheered.

"And given that being named _heir_ means he'd have to take the Prince name much as I have, and we already identified in a father and son manner, it seemed… appropriate to allow him to utilize the paternal honorific," Severus finished.

"Which is a nice way to say as soon as he said I'd be taking the Prince name I asked if I could call him _dad_ ," the blond teen blushed. "I mean, Harry already does, and I'll bet Emma will before long too."

"I am a lifelong bachelor," Severus bemoaned. "How did I end up with three children?"

"As with most of the better complications in our lives," Galahad mused, "I'd imagine it had something to do with Hermione."

* * *

"Hey, Harry!"

Harry Potter turned to see his brother's dorm-mate, Draco Malfoy approaching. While Harry and Draco's relationship had started out quite badly, in the last year they'd approached something they both secretly called friendship, though neither was willing to actually voice that conclusion. "Draco," the dark haired teen greeted. "What's up?"

"I need a minor favor," the Slytherin stated. "You got the Marauder's Map back from your mum, yeah?"

Harry nodded, and pulled the aforementioned article out of his robe pocket. "Yup. What do you need it for?"

"I can't find Helena," the blond admitted sheepishly. "I haven't seen her in two days. Yesterday I just figured she had other stuff she needed to do - but I went looking this morning and I've been looking all day and I just can't find her. I'm starting to get worried something's happened to her."

Harry rolled his eyes. There was _nothing_ worse than your friend having a thing for your sister. It was just icky. "What's the worst that can happen? She can't get any more dead than she already is."

"Maybe I don't care!" Draco snapped.

"I know you...love her, but she's dead and that's not gunna change," Harry said sympathetically. "Mate, obsessing over a girl you can't have isn't healthy."

"But what if… I don't know… someone found a spell to destroy ghosts and decided to try it out on her?" Draco grasped, obviously ignoring Harry's attempt to be supportive. "Come on Harry, just help me find her! Ghosts show up on your bloody map just as well as living people, so can you just check for me?"

Harry decided to humor Draco. He did feel bad for the guy, and if it were him in love with someone he couldn't have, he'd want to be humored. He'd need to know the one who had his heart was safe. "Alright, alright…. _I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_."

The two teens searched the map diligently for ten minutes before Harry spotted his sister in a third floor room which, if his memory served, was one of the few rooms left in Hogwarts that hadn't been assigned any sort of use. "There!" he pointed.

"She's not moving," Draco said worriedly. "Ghosts on the map - the dots shake a bit so you can tell the difference."

"You're awfully familiar with my map," Harry said suspiciously, having never before looked at the map in Draco's company.

"Um… Dudley and I sometimes borrow it," he admitted, before quickly moving back to the issue at hand. "But anyhow, like I said, she's not moving. I was right. There's something wrong."

Harry, too, had noticed the way ghosts appeared on his map, and despite his earlier urging to Draco that nothing could possibly be amiss, he was beginning to share the other teen's concern over Helena. "Let's go," he agreed, folding the map and stowing it away.

It took the two boys nearly twenty minutes to get from where they had been to where the map had indicated Helena currently was. A million things rolled through Harry's mind as to what could be wrong with someone already dead, but nothing prepared him for what they actually found when they burst into the otherwise empty classroom.

Sitting in the corner of the room, crouched on the floor and crying, was Helena Ravenclaw. She wore the same dress Harry had always seen her in, but the colors were more vivid now - more solid, as was the rest of her. She looked up at them, startled, and obviously scared. "Draco? Harry?"

"Helena," Harry gaped, watching her chest rise and fall in an absolutely normal way. "You're… you're _alive_."

"Not going to change, huh?" Draco said with wonder, moving forward to kneel beside Helena. He touched her arm, and smiled at the warmth.

"I stand corrected," Harry muttered, looking dumbfounded at his adoptive sister. "Mum's gunna flip."

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	5. Chapter Four - Preparation

**Well the last chapter was a bit on the short side, and this one is on the long side. Yay for you lot. The end of this chapter made my Beta cry so... brace yourselves? ENJOY!**

* * *

Rupert waved his red-haired companion into the lift that would take them to the office level of the Watcher Headquarters. "This whole building is full of Watchers?" Ron asked, having taken note of the oversized atrium that served as an entry to the nine story architectural example of ostentatious.

"Indeed," the older man replied. "While there's only one active Slayer at a given time, there are hundreds of Potentials, much like your sister, and they are assigned Watchers as well to help prepare them for if they're called. Rarely, though relevant because such is the case with Miss Summers, the Council will miss a Potential and she'll become a Slayer with no previous knowledge of her gifts and what they mean."

"Can we expect Miss Summers to be in poor fighting form, then? Since she didn't have training ahead of time?"

Rupert shrugged. "I'd imagine that her first Watcher, Mister Jamison-Smythe, brought her up to speed, though it would certainly be wise for us to assess her soon after meeting to get an idea on where she still needs training. Hopefully her gaps in knowledge won't be too extensive."

Ron nodded. "Is she going to know who I really am? Or does that have to stay secret?"

A laugh escaped Rupert's lips. "Mister Weasley, she won't even know who I truly am, as the Statute of Secrecy prevents us from telling her anything about the magical world. While she does have magical giftings, she's still technically a muggle, and thus, we cannot reveal our knowledge of true wizarding magic."

"I keep telling you, you can just call me _Ron_ ," the teen remarked. "And I guess that makes sense, though we'll have to tell her something to explain why I'm around your place all the time and why I'm helping protect and train her."

"Sorry, Ron, I'm still adapting to the familiarity we seem to be required to develop. Anyway, we'll tell her that you are a Watcher in training, apprenticing under me," Rupert replied. "Which will be the truth, as part of the reason you're with me today is because we're getting you enrolled in the Watcher's Academy, officially speaking. Presuming we manage to not get killed in the next four years, and should you be willing to remain in Sunnydale beyond the end of the war - presuming _that_ isn't still going on in four years - then you will have earned the credentials of a fully fledged Watcher."

"What if that's not what I want to do with my life?" Ron inquired in a neutral tone, not giving away whether or not he was truly disinclined to become a Watcher in due time.

"Having the credentials means that you can use them if you choose, not that you are required to," Rupert answered. "As a tactician, I'm sure you can appreciate the merits of having options, and considering your sister is the first known magical Potential, there's no way to know whether or not her powers will activate - regardless of whether or not there is a currently active Slayer already in the field. If Vala's powers do activate, having her elder brother for a Watcher would greatly increase her life expectancy, as in general Watchers do not get attached to their Slayers, knowing full well they are likely to die young. This, in turn, means the Watcher is more inclined to put the Slayer in danger, to allow her to take risks, because there's no emotional bond. Personally, I don't know how one could _not_ eventually grow attached to his or her Slayer, given what they must face together."

"So you'll get attached to Miss Summers?" Ron inquired.

"I imagine we'll form some sort of familial bond, though it's not that uncommon for younger Watchers - Mister Botwell being an example of this - to form a romantic attachment to their Slayers. Of course, I'm far too old to look at a teenage girl in such a manner."

"Hermione and Minerva are fourteen years apart in age," Ron remarked. "You never know."

"That's a far cry from the more that twenty-five years that stand between Miss Summers and myself," Rupert replied as they stepped out of the lift and he began directing them down a long hallway. "In any case, all of that is to say that if you want the credentials, it will require staying in Sunnydale for at least four years. I'd imagine your decision will have to be made with consideration to how your Mister Potter feels about things. How is he handling the notion of you leaving, speaking of?"

Ron sighed. "He says he understands, and I know that logically he does, though he can't hide the pain, or the feeling abandoned. Not from me, anyway. He's putting on a show of being strong, and Merlin knows he will be, but it'll hurt like hell. On the other hand, I think a part of him is glad that I'll be away from the front lines of the war."

"That doesn't necessarily mean you'll be away from danger. A Slayer fights Vampires and Demons and the like. We, as her Watchers, will be fighting by her side," the older man said pointedly.

"I know. That said, it's going to be bloody weird fighting vampires. I mean, Leland's a vampire and he's a good bloke. Why aren't these vampires good like him?" Ron asked.

"Simply put, it's the difference between a born Vampire and a made Vampire. A born Vampire, such as Leland, has a soul, the same as any other person. A made vampire is a person who has become possessed, after death, by a demon. That said, not all born Vampires are good. They are by nature very strong, very smart, and have a lust for power that often drives them to the darkness. Leland is actually quite the rarity."

"Are all demons possessed people?" Ron asked, seeking clarification.

"No," Rupert answered. "Most of them are flesh and blood from birth to death, though Vampires are not the only exception to this rule. Werewolves are much the same."

"So you're saying that Remus has a demon inside of him?" Ron frowned, obviously not liking that notion in the slightest.

"There are actually two classes of Werewolves as well, and you've met one of each. Young Henry Foss - Helen Magnus' ward, is a born Werewolf, or Lycan, and that process is much like Vampirism is for Leland. Mister Lupin is the product of a magical infection, which can be passed on, though it does not harm the soul."

"I guess I have a lot to learn," Ron sulked. "Get out of school early just to go somewhere else to be schooled even more."

"Regretting your choice already?" Rupert teased good-naturedly as they approached the door leading to Academy registration. "Last chance to back out…"

Ron's eyes gleamed with resolve. "Not a chance, Watcher-man. You're stuck with me."

"Very well."

The two entered the room, and Rupert was rather surprised to see a witch at the intake desk rather than a fellow Watcher. "Madame Trelawney," he greeted the very well known seer with a small bow. "What a surprise."

The red-head balked at the name, no doubt associating it with his least favorite Professor at Hogwarts. "Like Professor Sybill Trelawney?" he asked.

"Your Professor," the very old looking woman nodded. "My great-great granddaughter."

"Blimey."

"I thought you were up in Devon," Rupert said, handing her the paperwork for Ron's admission.

"I saw you to be the Slayer's Watcher," Cassandra said airily. "And I saw that you would bring the boy here today. I also saw that you were to meet a daughter of a dark house, and that you would bring her aid, but I didn't see how you met her so I simply assumed it was my job to tell you that part."

Rupert shook his head. "As always, seers give me a headache. Who are we to meet, when and where?"

"Katrina is her name, noon today is the date, and the stand-in king's café is the place."

Ron looked thoughtful. "I saw a sign for Regency Café on the tube," he remarked. "Guess that's where we're having lunch."

Cassandra smiled at Ron, confirming to Rupert that the teen was on the mark as to deciphering the _where_ element. Why seers couldn't just say what they meant, he'd never know.

"Well, there you go," she said, handing Rupert back a few papers, as well as offering a badge to Ron. "You're enrolled, sister Keeper, sister Watcher. Twice over in the end, actually."

This time Ron looked truly perplexed.

"You'll see," she assured the red-haired teen. "I expect great things from you young man. Now off with you both. You have an appointment to keep with fate."

Ron and Rupert, both puzzled, left the Watcher's council after a brief stop in to another office for Rupert's updated credentials, and made their way to the café that Cassandra Trelawney had directed them to.

"Her…" the older man said, pointing out a woman with a wild head of curly hair. "Hermione's been trying to find her since Mungo's fell. She's a mediwitch, and a Voldemort sympathizer."

Ron tensed immediately, but followed as Rupert made the approach. Both men took a seat at the table where she'd been sitting alone. "Mind if we join you?" the redhead asked rhetorically.

"No isn't an answer we're going to accept, Miss Millson," Rupert replied. "I believe we have a few things to discuss."

The woman sighed, and rolled her eyes. "Well, which of my parents sent you?" she asked tersely. "You'd think at nearly fifty years of age they might stop acting like I was still an infant, but no. Not a bloody chance."

"Um…" Ron said, his expression betraying his confusion. "We were sent by Cassandra Trelawney, the Seer. She seems to think that your loyalties are not as Dark as publically believed."

Katrina looked at him in surprise. "Well in that case… pleased to meet you, Mister -"

"Weasley," the teen replied. "And this here is Mister Giles."

"Ah, George's boy," she identified Rupert by his father. "Last I heard you were working alongside that Slytherin woman."

"I do work with Madam Slytherin," the Watcher acknowledged, "but I'm being assigned elsewhere shortly and thus my business in London. Meeting with you was a last minute diversion per, as Mister Weasley said, a conversation with Madam Trelawney and her indication that you are not so loyal to Voldemort as we had previously believed."

"My mother comes from a family known for dabbling in the Dark Arts," Katrina stated, "and she has been clear in her expectation that I follow that path. When Voldemort was in power back in the day, I was in America to build on my existing Medical Mastery. I heard things, but never saw anything first hand. As I've never been one to judge on second hand information, I told my mother I agreed with whatever she thought - mostly so she'd not nag - and to me it didn't really matter because I didn't come back to England until nineteen eighty-three, by which time Voldemort had fallen and the dust was mostly settled. When he started to rise again, I saw the carnage first hand and began having doubts on where I stood. Then, after the attack on St. Mungo's, it was clear to me that I could not support such a monster, who'd attack helpless people, but given my history I didn't think the Order would offer much welcome. So I left."

"What's your connection to the Watchers?" Rupert wanted to know.

"Blood, unfortunately," she groaned. "My dear father has spent my entire life assuring me that if I ever got fed up with Wizard kind, I'd be welcome at the Watcher's Council. He even made me go through the process to get my Watcher credentials, which of course I've never actually used."

"Who's your dad?" Ron wanted to know.

Rupert was equally curious.

"Quentin Travers," she replied sourly. "I do believe you're acquainted with the bastard."

"Bloody hell," was all the older man could think to say. He'd known Travers for most of his life, and he'd had no idea that the Head of the Council had ever had a child.

* * *

Helping in the Orphanage Wing suited Emma, who'd had plenty of experience with small children when her Mum, Rosmerta, was still alive and running the Three Broomsticks. She was even more inclined to help the Weasleys out here now, having been witness to the birth of their new baby.

Vala was special. Emma expected that every parent looked at their child and felt they were something beyond average, but this wasn't just Molly and Arthur's opinion. The Watchers - Rupert, Quentin Travers, and that new fellow, Christopher Botwell, were positively swooning over the birth of a magical Slayer potential, and Emma herself just had a feeling about the baby. Something inside of her made her feel like Vala belonged to her just as much as she did the Weasleys, and she couldn't help but wonder what that meant.

"I don't know what it is about this little girl," Molly said, handing the baby over to Emma after she'd finished nursing, "but she is taking a lot of energy out of me. I suppose I'm just getting old."

"You're not old, Mrs. Weasley," Emma said gently. "New babies are just hard work. And you're still dealing with the other kids here too, which is why I'm on Weasley detail. I'm here to make sure you don't push yourself too hard. The baby deserves as much of your time as you can give."

"Which isn't as much time as I wish I could offer her," Molly said sadly, watching her now sleeping daughter. "How long are you here for today?"

"Just until three," Emma replied. She glanced at the clock on the wall and was surprised to see that it was quarter to three now. Last she'd looked it hadn't even been noon. She'd missed lunch, and her stomach was now grumbling over the fact.

"If you can take Vala into our quarters and lay her down in the pram before you go, I'd appreciate it," Molly said. "Arthur has been cooped up in there all day doing paperwork, so he can keep an eye on her."

"Sure, Mrs. Weasley."

Emma held the sleeping infant close to her body as she moved between the rows of beds for other children being housed here, and thanked Merlin that the boys were making her learn wandless magic when she realized that she didn't have a free hand to open the door with.

"Emma!" Mr. Weasley greeted softly, noting his sleeping daughter. "Time for you to be off?"

"How'd you guess?"

"You're relinquishing hold on my daughter," he teased. "You're very fond of her."

"Well, I did witness her birth, and she's named for me, and she's awfully cute…" Emma reasoned.

"One day I'm sure you'll have your own children," Arthur offered.

"Don't know about that," Emma mused. "I like kids, really, but I don't know if I actually want to be a mum. An aunt for sure, but I don't know if I could be responsible - completely responsible - for another life. I've got too much I want to do in life and I think I'm too selfish to be a parent. Learning matters more to me than a family of my own."

"You never know what will happen," the Weasley Patriarch said softly as Emma laid Vala down in her pram. "It may surprise you to know that when I was your age, I had no intention of having children either."

"What changed?" the teen wanted to know.

"I fell in love with a woman who wanted as many children as she could have," he smiled. "And love changes you."

"Well I'm in love with books," the Ravenclaw pouted. "And they don't have babies."

"Time will tell, Miss McGonagall," Arthur offered with a pacifying smile. "Now, off with you. I ran into Mister Malfoy a few hours ago and he was looking for you. I'd be willing to bet he's still looking."

The innuendo did not escape Emma. "Ew," she said, gagging. "Never in a million years. I could never be with a guy who took his looks more seriously than I do!"

That made the wizard laugh heartily, causing Vala to gurgle in her sleep. Emma took her leave a moment later, not wanting to wake the baby with their conversation, and went looking for Harry. Her brother would be easier to find than Draco, and he'd have the map, so she could find Draco that way. With so many people in the castle, new faces and old, it was hard to find anyone in the midst of the crowd.

As it happened, she found Draco waiting at the end of the Herbology corridor, and he nearly dragged her down a series of halls, claiming that he and Harry needed her help with something. The something they needed help with was the last thing Emma could have been prepared for. Dudley, who'd been dragged to the empty classroom by Harry much as Draco had brought her, seemed even less prepared to face a reality in which their ghost of a sister, Helena Ravenclaw, was no longer a ghost. She was a living, breathing person, and scared shitless of what Hermione was going to do when she found out.

"How did this happen?" Emma asked her adoptive sister.

"She hasn't the foggiest," Draco answered for her. "We figure we need to talk to Hermione - she can always figure things out, but Helena is afraid she'll be mad."

"Whatever for?" the Ravenclaw teen asked.

"Well I _am_ from an age when the Dark Arts were more freely used," Helena replied. "I'm afraid she'll assume I did this of my own accord, or that I coerced someone else. She has no reason to trust my word."

Emma shook her head. "Mum has a very strict policy with her kids to believe them at their word unless evidence shows otherwise. It's the reason none of us like to lie to her. We don't want to ruin that trust. Right boys?"

Harry and Dudley nodded in agreement. "She's never had reason to doubt your word, and she won't assume she has reason to now," the latter agreed with his little sister.

"But she's so suspicious of everyone!" Helena exclaimed.

"That's _Head of the Order_ Hermione that you're talking about," Harry tried. "Not our mum. I know she's both, but she doesn't bring her job into her parenting. I promise, Helena, you've got nothing to worry about. Mum will be glad that you're alive, just as we are, and we'll work together to figure out what happened to get you that way."

The five teens talked for a while about when to speak with Hermione, eventually opting to simply bring her home for dinner tonight and go from there. They knew that both Minerva and Hermione would be there, as well as Severus, which meant that three of the smartest people in the Wizarding world would be hands on deck to figure all this out. More than that, dinner was for family only, and even Draco agreed he had no right or reason to intrude on the reunion between the mother and daughter.

"It'll be an interesting evening," Emma surmised, earning nods from the rest of the group.

* * *

"Hector," Hermione addressed the Badger in human skin as the Sacred Twenty-Eight meeting was called to order. "Last meeting you said you were going to make contact and secure alliances with the Bears, Wolves, and Fauns. How is that progressing?"

"The Bears, unfortunately, seem to be internally debating the issue of who to ally with. They're not giving me a straight answer. The Wolves are much the same, though the head of the pack indicated that he was insulted I'd been sent rather than the Lycan representative," he said, sparing Helen Magnus a glance. "The Fauns have agreed to join us but are requiring certain terms, which are admittedly long-winded and will likely require negotiation before finalizing."

 _So much for 'I'll have them all on board by next meeting,'_ Hermione grumbled to herself. "Ahuitzotl, the Serpent community?" she continued, addressing the Basilisk.

"As Hector said regarding the Bears, there is debate regarding loyalty," came the reply, "though they seem to be leaning in our favor. The wife of Salazar is a stronger tie than some distant heir."

That was at least something. Hermione would have preferred a more solid _yes_ from them, but of all the magical creatures, she knew the Serpents would be the hardest sell. They'd historically sided with the Dark. "Cypselus? Atshep?"

The Griffin and Sphinx representatives both stood. "My kind believe our numbers to be too small to risk taking either side of the war, though in the interest of peace we will remain neutral in the fighting, and we will provide any information we can to the Order, and not to Voldemort."

The tall man looked sour at the words coming out of his mouth, which didn't surprise Hermione as during the last meeting he swore his kind would be ready and rearing for a fight. That could have done wonders for their air support. Atshep nearly quoted Cypselus to the word, though she looked more at ease with the notion. There were even less Sphinxes left in the world than there were Griffins, and during the last meeting, she'd told Hermione to expect this answer.

"Sandor?"

"The Giants are with you and your cause, m'lady," the ragged looking man said gruffly, not even bothering to stand. "But they won't get here for another month."

"Viola?" Hermione directed her sight to her friend, trying to mask her disappointment that the Giants wouldn't be here sooner. "Obviously the Dragons have already declared for our side. They were supposed to be seeing what they could do about Gringotts…"

Viola rubbed her temples. "Well, they have in fact managed to empty Gringotts, making the resources within out of Voldemort's reach. However, they have taken everything to a supposedly secure location which they are not disclosing to me, and that of course means we don't have access to those items either."

"Oh, bloody grand!" Hermione groaned. "Work on that, please. I'm less concerned with the gold and more about the artifacts. Who knows _what_ sort of useful items were in the Vaults. Merlin save me when Griphook hears about this…"

The reason Hermione was running the meeting today was because the human body of Griphook had managed to contract the common muggle cold, and was currently in the hospital wing recovering. The Goblin was milking it for all it was worth. One would think that he was severely ill. Hermione just thanked the gods he hadn't been here to hear that the dragons had made off with all the gold in Gringotts.

"Dobby, have you found a mate yet?" Hermione asked, hoping for better news.

He nodded vigorously. "Dobby is set to bond with Aroen, Daughter of Enwyn, of House Malfoy, at the next full moon in two weeks."

Finally. Good news. Hermione couldn't help but be exasperated by the fact that, so far, the _House Elf_ was the only one who seemed to be doing what he was supposed to do, when he was supposed to do it. "Bane, Helen, and Robert. How is progress on getting that defense perimeter up and running?"

"Slow work," Bane replied. "We're getting less support from Helen's people than we were hoping."

"The Heads of the Sanctuaries have to look to their own protection as well," Helen elaborated. "James Watson is to be here next week to at least bring supplies, and I'm hoping I can cajole a bit more out of him once he can't simply hang up the phone."

"And I, of course, can't direct crews to build until I have more supplies to build with," Robert added. "Though I do have a list of about sixty people from the refugees that are willing and able to lend a wand once materials arrive."

"Jon? Galahad?" Hermione hissed, trying and failing to hide her mounting frustration at the lack of progress. "Has the Library decided if or not to loan us some artifacts?"

The Librarian answered. "The Library has agreed, though Charlene insists on cataloguing everything we borrow so we're sure to get it back, so it's going to be a trip of a couple of days to get everything. We're planning to go Thursday."

"And Hermione," Galahad interjected, "I was wondering if I might borrow Emma for that venture. Her skills would be of use, as would an extra hand, and I think she'd appreciate seeing the Library."

The Head of the Order had to smile at that. Emma would most certainly enjoy the wonder that was the Library. "Of course, my friend. Just be sure to remind me before you go so I don't panic over a missing child."

"Of course," he agreed easily.

"Alright, Christopher, what is the status of the Watchers Council?" she asked Rupert's replacement. Gods, Hermione was loathe to lose Rupert and even more sad to be losing Ron in the process, but she couldn't change the fact that the Slayer needed a Watcher, and Rupert was it. Sending Ron with him was logical on many levels, though it saddened her how much this was hurting Harry. Of course, as always, her son would endure.

"The Council is open to having the unactivated Slayers and Watchers be part of the fighting force when it comes down to a major, planned attack on Voldemort, though they want the girls to have some specialized training first, which means they'd need a place to train. There are already too many people here, so I don't imagine you'd want them brought here to train, but I can't think of anywhere else," Christopher, or _Kit_ as he liked to be called, replied.

"I'll go back to that," she acknowledged. "Alright, Minerva, Augusta, Thomas, Liu, and Amos. You six are my curriculum team. What is the plan for dealing with the influx of students come September?"

In reality, this was Thomas McKinnon and Liu Chang's project, though they of course had to coordinate with Minerva in her capacity of Headmistress, and they'd recruited Amos and Augusta for the sake of their respective social circles and the connections they'd bring. Liu spoke for the group. "We have curriculum, but we're still short on teachers. Most of the subjects we're still trying to fill are for the younger students. Just basic reading, writing, and arithmetic. Most of the people who are skilled with children that young are already committed to working with the Weasleys in the Orphanage Wing. We're open to suggestions on where to recruit."

"Minerva, weren't you saying last week that you had too many people offering to help with classes?" Hermione asked her lover.

"That was before you insisted on shifting the excess to dueling classes for the adults," Minerva replied, "which has been very positively responded to and I'd hate to reassign them now."

"Right. Alright, um, Arthur, Leland, and Serina. What's the status on fresh water supply?"

The Black Lake was a freshwater lake, but they couldn't afford to use it as drinking water, because with the amount of people at Hogwarts, they'd end up taking too much and destroying the Merfolk's habitat in the process.

Leland answered for his group. "As expected, Serina's people agree with our concerns over using the lake. The three of us have spent the week scouting further north, and have found another large lake of freshwater, though this one is off the network of rivers the Merfolk occupy, so it's safe to take from. We've already begun laying a piping system to transport the water to Hogwarts, and Arthur is setting up a filtering system to clean it. We just need to know where on the grounds you want us to dig a really big hole to construct a well. It would need to be at least four meters wide to accommodate the flow."

Hermione nodded, and began thinking of possible locations for a well that size. "Okay, Vivian, Algie, and Garrick. Progress on setting up a shopping center?"

"Well we've gotten all the merchants to move their stores to the Quidditch pitch, but there's a lot of argument about how to lay things out," Vivian replied. "Petty bickering is a time honored tradition, and the shopkeepers seem intent on keeping it alive. I'd suggest you decide on a layout and tell them how it's going to be, because they aren't listening to any of us."

Hermione sighed. "Malcolm, how goes the Hospital's supplies? You said you were running low. Any progress there?"

"Not really," he shrugged. "Still running low."

Minerva rolled her eyes at her obviously unmotivated brother, and Hermione bit her lip to keep from outright screaming. "Severus, how's the legal system coming along?"

"It was _almost_ complete when Griphook decided to fall ill. It will be complete a matter of days after his sorry arse decides to suck it up and get back to work," her friend grumped. He was obviously very displeased with the Goblin at the moment, and Hermione didn't blame him.

She took a deep, centering breath before addressing some of the issues that had come up. "Bane, how open would the communities in the forest be to sharing land on a long term basis?"

"Very open to it," he said. "Lady Slytherin, only about a tenth of the forest is inside the boundaries of Hogwarts. There is more than enough land to house new colonies."

Hermione looked over at her granddaughter. "Helen, use the promise of permanent land, free from human interference, as a bartering tool to get some help from the Abnormal community. You've mentioned to me more than once that many of them are displaced. And regarding extra teachers, once the Abnormals start arriving, I'm certain many of them would be qualified to help with the basic educational needs. Promise of jobs may also be a draw for them."

"That would help. I'll be sure to speak to James about passing the word along," Helen agreed easily.

"Kit," Hermione addressed the Watcher. "How many Slayer and Watcher teams are we talking about needing to host?"

"Fifty teams, maybe sixty," he replied. "They'd certainly have no problems double bunking, though."

"Augusta, are you willing to open Longbottom Manor up? We could Secret-Keep it, offering good protection, though the Watchers and Slayers are pretty far off Voldemort's radar so even without that ward they should be safe behind the Manor's existing wards."

The aging witch nodded vigorously. "No reason not to put the place to good use!"

"There, then. Problem solved." Hermione said, tone level. "What's next? Oh, right, the well that needs a location and the merchants who insist on squabbling over real estate. Well, how about you solve your problems together? Put the well in the middle of the Quidditch Pitch, and lay a path around it and then four paths out from that. It'll be like a town square, you see?"

"Of course, I don't know why I didn't think of that," Algie agreed readily.

"Severus, I do believe that Malcolm and Vivian both have legal backgrounds. Bugger Griphook and have them help you complete the new system of laws," Hermione continued. "And while you're at it, contact the Heads of the schools attached to the Room of Requirement and have a trade agreement written into the laws. I'm certain there are things we can produce here that they may be willing to accept as barter for the medical supplies that Malcolm needs. If you would all simply work together you might actually get things done! Merlin save the lot of you if I get killed!"

With that, Hermione simply turned and stormed out of the chamber, beyond frustrated with the lack of team effort. To no surprise, Minerva was hot on her heels a minute later. "Hermione, stop!"

Hermione huffed, but halted and waited for her lover to catch up. "What was that all about? Was it entirely necessary to rebuke us like a bunch of naughty schoolchildren?"

"If most of you weren't late or remiss in handing in your proverbial homework, perhaps I'd treat you like the adults that you are supposed to be!" she snapped back.

Minerva said nothing, but offered a pointed look.

"I'm sorry, alright?" Hermione said after a deep, centering breath. "It's just stress. I'm Head of the Order, and that's all, and yet Griphook has me lead more meetings than not with the Sacred Twenty-Eight, you talked me on to the new Educational board on grounds of being a Professor of Hogwarts and thereby highly qualified, Severus comes to me for advice on how to lead the wizarding world in general at all hours of the day and night, and I still have three children and a partner that I hate not having the time to spent with!"

"We'll see the children shortly, for dinner," Minerva said gently. "I'm busy as well, which you know, but we _do_ need to make some time for us. The only way we're going to make it through this with our sanity intact is if we see to our own needs as well."

"We'll spend time Monday," Hermione promised.

Minerva sighed. "I've got Monday booked with interviews with refugees who might make good teachers for the younger children."

"Tuesday I have a meeting with the Confederation in the morning, but my afternoon is free," Hermione countered.

"So is mine," Minerva agreed. "It's a date."

"Excellent," her lover replied. "Now to dinner with the children? Severus had to decline this evening, but the children are likely already there and waiting. I'd not be surprised if they already cooked, trying to help."

"Hopefully it's edible," the Headmistress laughed.

The two walked in silence the rest of the way to the Head Tower, already feeling a bit less stressed having simply _planned_ some time together. Minerva was right. They did need to make time for each other, for both their sakes, and the sake of the family they'd built. As expected, Harry, Dudley, and Emma were already there, though they had not made dinner.

That didn't, however, mean there wasn't a surprise waiting. Standing between the boys, who were looking all manner of courtly protectors, was her daughter Helena. While it wasn't unusual for Helena to join them in family time, the fact that she was not floating mid air, and was wearing jeans and a jumper that she must have borrowed from Emma or Ginny Weasley, and that she was not transparent - that was all decidedly out of the ordinary. In fact, it was extraordinary.

For once in her life, Hermione didn't give a single shite _how_ or _why_ something had happened. Her daughter - the girl who'd lived and died before Hermione had ever known her name - was alive. That was what mattered, and the joy that rushed through her at the sight was beyond words. "Helena," she choked out, rushing forward.

Both women's faces were streaked with tears by the time they met halfway across the room in a fierce embrace, touching each other for the very first time. Hermione wouldn't have traded the fall of Voldemort for this moment.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	6. Chapter Five - Surprise Attack

**I really can't think of a single thing to say except for the following: the events of this chapter are necessary for plot development. Probably gunna want tissues...**

* * *

"Are you ready for this?" Helen asked Frank and Alice Longbottom, who had been under her care for the last several weeks, since Hermione had awoken them from their insane state. It had been mostly physical therapy, but there'd been a fair amount of social coaching as well. Years on years of not having to interact with a single soul, not even each other, had left Frank and Alice a bit out of practice with manners. Helen worried that with Frank's current tendency to leer at any woman who passes his way, that he'd ultimately lose Alice. That said, Alice was no princess either. She'd taken to cussing like a sailor, which her husband, who'd been raised among the pureblood elite, was not fond of.

"As ready as we're going to be," Frank answered, running his hands through his messy hair. "It's surreal, you know - I can sort of remember seeing Neville at visits, but my last real memories of my son are of an infant, and now he's nearly a grown man."

"Good looking one, too," Helen mused, having met Neville on a number of occasions. It had been hell to see the boy the last few weeks and _not_ tell him that his parents were, for all intents and purposes, back from the dead. Augusta, however, had insisted that they wait a bit to tell the boy so that if the correction of their mental state didn't hold, he'd not have gotten his hopes up for nothing.

"Does he knew why he's been summoned?" Alice wanted to know.

Minerva, who'd kindly offered her office as a place to hold this meeting, replied. "I didn't tell him anything. Likely, he thinks he's in trouble."

"He's not even the trouble making sort!" Helen defended the young Gryffindor. "He's a highly responsible young man."

"That he is," Minerva agreed, "but he's also close friends to your uncle, and anyone associated with Harry Potter tends to assume they're going to get into trouble at some point."

Helen wrinkled her nose at the reminder of having aunts and uncles who were decades her junior. It was odd enough to consider that her grandmother and by extension of Hermione, her great-grandmother Jean Granger, were both also decades younger than herself. At least her mother was older than her. That was something. "Quite," she agreed. "When is Neville to arrive?"

"Augusta went to fetch him," Alice replied. "Shortly, I'd imagine."

Shortly, it turned out, was mere seconds later, when after a brief knock on the office door sounded, Augusta and Neville stepped into the office. As planned, Helen and Minerva stepped forward to greet them, and Frank and Alice held back in a nook, out of sight. "What's going on?" Neville asked. "I didn't do anything."

Minerva smirked, to which Helen glared at the Headmistress. "Neville, you are not in trouble," Helen spoke. "Several weeks ago, Professor Slytherin was in the Medical Tower speaking with Madams Hammond and McGonagall about your parents and their care. Professor Slytherin suggested a previously untried series of spells to assist in your parents treatment, and the results were… substantial."

"Substantial?" Neville asked. "What the bloody hell does that mean?"

"It means, Neville," Augusta said gently, putting an arm on his shoulder, "that your mum and dad are aware. Walking, talking, and in their right minds. We've got them back, my dear boy."

The Gryffindor looked skeptical. "Is this a joke?"

There was a pause as neither Helen, Minerva, or Augusta had any idea how to answer that. Neville's father, however, decided to take matters into his own hands. "When on earth has Augusta Longbottom ever been known to make a joke, let alone one in such poor taste?"

Neville's eyes shot toward the other side of the room, where his father and mother were both coming out of the alcove and walking toward him, smiles on their faces. "Holy…. Shite."

"Language," Augusta chided.

"Oh, give the kid a break," Alice said. "He's sixteen, and his parents are more or less back from the dead. He's entitled to bloody swear."

"Mum? Dad?"

The couple nodded. "Come let me look at you, son," Frank said, holding out his arms.

Neville approached slowly, looking hopeful but unsure. "Is it really you?"

Alice moved forward to meet her reluctant son, placed a hand on either side of his face and pulled his head down enough so she could press a kiss to his forehead. "Real enough for you?"

What was left of Neville's hesitation vanished, as did his ability to stand, and the next thing Helen knew all four Longbottoms were on the floor in a huddle, crying. It was heartwarming, to witness reunions such as this one. She imagined the Abnormal community would have many reunions like this down the road, as so many families were separating to send those who couldn't defend themselves well here, to Hogwarts.

"Take as long as you need," Minerva said softly to the four. "I'll just be working on paperwork at my desk."

"And I'm going to go check in on my children," Helen added. "Send a Patronus if you need anything at all."

Augusta nodded on behalf of her family, mouthing her thanks before Minerva stepped to the other side of the office, and Helen took her leave. From the Head Tower, she made her way down to the Orphanage Wing, where Ashley and Henry had been left in the care of Molly and Arthur Weasley. While they were mostly old enough to mind themselves at ten and thirteen years old, they were accustomed to the rules at Hogwarts, and Helen and Hermione had agreed it was not worth the risk of them getting into something that might be dangerous, for the sake of having free run of the castle. As such, they spent time with the Weasleys, helping out as much as they could with the smaller children. Ashley found this distasteful, but Henry had a gentle soul and seemed to being enjoying himself.

"How are my children behaving?" she asked Molly, seeing her friend. They couldn't not be friends after the birth of Vala. That kind of ruckus would bond anyone.

"They're fine," Molly insisted. "Henry's been a gift from Merlin - the little ones adore him. Ashley is less inclined to work with the infants and toddlers, but despite being only ten she's a tough little girl and is seemingly thrilled if I ask her to take a load of diapers down to the laundry. It's just down the hall - Hermione put up special wards so that even House Elves cannot apparate directly into this wing, so we have to get laundry to the outer boundary, and from the the Elves take care of things."

"Ashley never minds getting dirty," Helen agreed. "And I'm glad the Henry is being helpful in his own way."

"Are you coming down from your meeting with the Longbottoms?" Molly inquired.

"Yes, it seems to have gone pretty well," she answered. "As well as such a reunion can go. Of course there were tears, and poor Neville about fell over when his brain caught up with just _who_ was standing in front of him."

"I'd imagine so," Molly whispered.

"Speaking of reunions," Helen said, suddenly remembering something Hermione had mentioned. "Bill's due back from France today, right?"

"He is," Molly nodded. "I'd like to be there to meet him, over at the Room of Requirement, but I hate to drag Vala through the castle. A bit cold, and she's still so little."

"I can watch her," Helen offered. "You and Arthur would do well with some time together anyway. I don't imagine you've had much of that since Vala was born. Even if it's just a brief walk, it'll do you both good."

"I'm not even going to try and talk you out of it," Molly said, letting out a sigh of relief. Helen smirked, glad she'd not been misreading the fatigue on her friend's face.

Fifteen minutes later, Helen was being handed the little red-haired baby, and her parents were exiting the Orphanage Wing, intent on a nice stroll to the other side of the castle.

* * *

Ron jogged to catch up to his parents, who were just about to enter the Room of Requirement, which had become an international travel point. With the connection of Hogwarts, Durmstrang, Ilvermorny, Beauxbatons, and Mahoutokoro through each of their own Rooms of Requirement, international travel was faster than ever. While he was not fond of the fact that war had been the cause of such an advancement, it was nice, and would come in handy even after the war was over. Ron hoped that would be soon enough - he didn't want to be away from Harry for long, though with the way Rupert was talking, war or no war he'd be in Sunnydale at least four years.

"Hey Mum, Dad," he greeted. "Ready to have Bill home?"

"Not that we see him much even when he is home," Arthur laughed. "Too busy with that new wife of his. Did he tell you Fleur is pregnant?"

"What?" Ron exclaimed. "No, he didn't, the tosser!"

"I'm still trying to get used to the idea that my youngest child will only be a few months older than my first grandchild," Molly grumped.

"Vala's special, Mum," Ron chided, "don't hold it against her."

"Perish the thought," Arthur agreed.

The three Weasleys were early on arriving, Bill not set to arrive for another fifteen minutes, so they sat down on provided sofas, and just talked. "How are things with you and Harry?" his mother wanted to know.

Ron blushed, still not used to the idea that his parents knew he was in a relationship - a relationship with another guy - and were interested in the details. He'd expected so much ridicule when he first figured out he was attracted to his best friend, and that was before he and Harry had even gotten involved. Granted, _involved_ was a point of view issue. They still hadn't...er... _done it_ …and agreed that would be happening no time soon. But they kissed a lot. A lot, a lot. His blush deepened at certain memories. "Um, we're good. We're just… yeah, we're good."

His mum raised an eyebrow. "Behaving yourselves, I trust."

"Not like I can get the bloke pregnant, Mum," Ron stammered. "But no, we're not doing anything you wouldn't want to discuss. Just snogging."

"How's he feeling about you going to Sunnydale?" his dad asked. "For that matter, how are you doing with that?"

Ron was used to people asking how Harry was coping, because he was _Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived,_ and he was important. Ron on the other hand was just _Ron, Number Six of Eight Weasley Kids_. Very overrated, according to some. Not that he wasn't proud to be a Weasley. Still, it was a nice rush to feel like he was important too, as his father asked after how he was doing. "I know my duty," he replied. "It's not like I'm just doing it for duty, though. I do it for Harry, and you guys, and Bill and Charlie and Percy and Fred and George and Ginny and Vala…" he paused. "Maybe not Percy. The ponce."

"Ronald Weasley!" his mother predictably screeched. "That's your brother!"

"Who happens to be a tosser," he argued, trying and failing to ignore her glare. "He is!"

"He'll come around," his dad promised. "Just remember that at the end of the day, _ponce_ or not, he is your brother. I expect you to treat him as such when he's ready to…"

"Stop being a ponce?"

His dad sheepishly nodded, which led both Weasley males to flinch under the glare of the wife and mother beside them.

The argument over Percy came to a halt as the magical alarm system started to ring to alert occupants of incoming travelers through the magically manifested Floo systems. Well, Ron wasn't sure if it was really a Floo, because it didn't use Powder and only got you between one Room of Requirement and another, but you did have to state one of those destinations to use it, so in that way it _was_ like a Floo. The three Weasleys stood, ready to greet Bill and his wife Fleur, Ron having in his head to give his elder brother a hard time about not telling him that Fleur was expecting a baby.

But it wasn't Bill and Fleur who stepped through the fireplace in the center of the line. It wasn't even a single fireplace that activated. All six activated and Death Eaters began pouring into the room, wands at the ready and beginning to fire off spells the minute they realized they were not alone. In his surprise, Ron's father didn't even have time to draw his own wand before he was struck down with a bolt of green light that made his son sick. _Avada Kedavra._

"Arthur!" his mum screamed, drawing her wand and firing defensive spells in Ron's direction, shielding him from the onslaught while he too drew his wand. "Ron, send Hermione a Patronus!"

He'd just watched his father die, Ron thought numbly, wondering how on earth she expected him to pull off a spell that depended on a happy thought, now of all times. Still, the others needed to be warned, so his trusted his mother to protect him, and he closed his eyes and thought of Harry.

 _"I don't want to lose you," Harry said. "I don't want to lose my best mate."_

 _Ron stood back up, wiping his face with his sleeve. "You already have," he said sadly, hating that he was doing this to Harry, but knowing he couldn't stay in this stalemate. "All that's left of that Ron is standing right here, right now, asking you to make a choice. I can either walk out that door right now, and you give me some time and space to figure out how to deal with my feelings for you, or you kiss me, and take a chance that maybe I'm not the only one feeling something more. It wasn't Cho you rescued from the lake, you know."_

 _Ron waited for Harry to react. For a minute, he stood there just there not reacting at all, and after a further minute, Ron let out a ragged breath and started to turn towards the door._

 _"Bugger it!" Harry suddenly snapped, launching forward and grabbing his friend's face._

 _Ron responded enthusiastically as Harry kissed him, a sense of coming home overwhelming him._

"Expecto Patronum," Ron whispered, mentally adding a message to warn Hermione, Minerva, and Severus of the oncoming attack. As soon as the spell was cast, he nodded to his mum and she let him handle his own defense while she directed her attention on trying to close down the open Floo that was still letting Death Eaters in. There was dozens in the room now, and more still already having pushed into the hallway beyond.

"Ron, run!" his mother urged, seeing how hopeless it was to defend this point.

"I'm not leaving you!" he bellowed.

"But she's going to leave you, boy," a Death Eater replied. With that said, a slicing hex cut Molly Weasley's throat.

Ron watched her fall, and watched the life leave her eyes as she bled out on the floor. He was beyond rage at this point. He felt nothing. "Just do it," he whispered, begging for this angel of death to get on with it.

The Death Eater, who he now recognized from the posters as Greg Dennover, laughed at him. "I think you'll suffer more if I let you live," he said. "Though I can't have you following me and warning anyone else, so live or die I guess you'll find out _if_ you wake up."

A spell hit Ron in the chest and he fell to the ground. It took a few seconds before he completely lost consciousness. If he lived or died now, he didn't want to be alone. Ron's eyes fluttered shut just as his hand fell into his mother's.

* * *

She never thought she'd live to see the day that Hogwarts, _her_ Hogwarts, was overrun by Death Eaters. It had been a shock enough for Minerva when the Carrows had been here with Umbridge, but at least in that case they had known they were coming, and while it had certainly been distasteful from start to the literal bloody finish, it hadn't been a surprise attack. While Minerva had seen numerous surprises happen at this school, both as Transfiguration Professor and as Headmistress, nothing had ever really shocked her. Not like this.

Ronald's Jack Russell Terrier Patronus had reached her in her office, at which point she'd hardly made it to the base of the tower before she was under fire and needing no further proof of the young man's sensational claim of a Death Eater incursion. Knowing Ron, he'd also alerted at least Hermione and Severus, so she ducked behind a stone knight long enough to send her own Patronus to the rest of the staff, as well as Poppy, Helen, Jackie, and Malcolm, who'd need to prepare for casualties in the Medical Tower. Minerva was no stranger to war, and a battle nearly always meant wounded, especially in an environment where there were civilians running about in a panic. With a wince, Minerva saw Amanda Ruehl - a relatively new Order member with two children - lying dead on the ground as she rounded the next corner on her way to the thick of the battle. Amanda had been on Hermione's team of Arithmancers. It was their job to calculate probable events to come. How had they not seen this coming?

Minerva passed a number of other injured men and women as she moved forward, knowing each and every one of them and feeling a sense of guilt over their suffering. Bile rose in her throat at some of the more grievous injuries, and for a moment she paused, trying to decide how to even begin to right this insanity. Her stillness didn't last more than a few moments before Severus came up behind her, barking orders and saving her the trouble of complex thought.

"Minerva," he snapped. "Use your Wardling abilities and start shifting the castle's wards and getting people to safety. Injuries first, directly to the Medical tower. Then those who cannot or should not fight to the Great Hall. I have Leland in there with Remus casting fresh wards to create a safe room. I sent Galahad, Rupert, and Bane down to the Orphanage Wing to help Helen get the children to safety. I haven't a clue where Molly and Arthur are."

"Have you seen Hermione?" she asked urgently.

He sighed, and pointed to a rising billow of smoke in what looked to be the Mid Courtyard. "She said something about turning Death Eaters into _crispy critters_. Knowing her, she's cooking them with Fiendfyre. I'd steer clear if I were you."

"Do we know how they got in?" she wanted to know.

"I got the warning from Ronald, as, I'm certain, did you. I haven't heard from Molly and Arthur, and Bill was scheduled to return from France today," he said. "I'm betting they took down one of the other schools and are coming in through the Room of Requirement. I'm heading there now to try and shut down the connection, assuming I'm right."

"Get Filius to go with you. He helped set up the charms, he'll know how to dismantle them quickly," Minerva advised. "I shall do what I can to minimize casualties."

Severus nodded, and in a surprising show of affection pressed a kiss to her forehead before departing. "Stay safe, my friend."

For the next hour, Minerva worked to do as Severus had ordered. For his noted lack of people skills, no one would say that he wasn't an able general, and a worthy leader of their newly founded Confederation. Mostly, Minerva transported people that she knew but didn't know well, and she was able to keep her emotions in check. She even managed to keep herself together when she'd found Sirius sporting an _intestines on the outside_ sort of look, and while she'd transported him to the Medical Tower, she had no idea if he was going to make it and the thought tore her apart.

Shortly after that, she got word from Severus that the Death Eaters were indeed coming in through the Room of Requirement, but that he and Filius couldn't get close enough to shut it down. His Patronus stated he was waiting for backup before they attempted to breach the bottleneck. A few minutes after that, Minerva got her first real dose of heartbreak.

She'd made it all the way to the Training Grounds when an ungodly scream reached her ears. Her eyes shot toward the sound, and was surprised to see a normally very composed Annabeth Prince, bloody and crawling toward a body.

"Oh, gods," she whispered, rushing to assist. "Evelyn…"

The former Head of the Department of Mysteries was already dead by the time the Headmistress reached her. Annabeth was sobbing relentlessly into locks of red hair. "Come back," she whimpered. "Come back, love. Come back!"

Minerva evaluated the grieving woman's injuries, and determined that she needed medical attention as soon as possible. Jackie might be able to save her leg if they acted quickly. "Annabeth, I have to get you to medical."

"No!" Severus' aunt begged. "I won't leave her."

Minerva choked up, empathizing deeply. "Evelyn would want you to live," she whispered. "You won't make it if you stay. Be angry at me if you need to be, but you're going."

With that said, the Headmistress uttered the spells to transport Annabeth, shifted the wards of Hogwarts accordingly, and moved on with her work. It occurred to her then that Hermione and Albus had indicated that with her Wardling powers, she could bring Hogwarts to life and allow it to fight a battle such as this. They'd simply never discussed how to do it, and now was hardly the time for guesswork and potential foul-ups. Smoke was still rising from the Mid Courtyard, so Minerva opted to move her efforts in that direction, only stopping for injured people, in hopes that Hermione would be able to tell her how.

It took her another fifteen minutes to weave her way around skirmishes to get as far as the Great Hall, where she popped in briefly to check, and thankfully confirm, that Harry, Dudley, Emma, and Helena were all safely inside with Leland and Remus. She knew Hermione would ask after them before anything else. Each of the children was distressed over missing friends and loved ones, but promised to stay put and not do anything rash. Harry had taken some convincing on that point, as Ron had not been seen or heard from since he'd sounded the initial alarm.

Once that was settled, Minerva took Leland aside and made him promise to make sure the children kept _their_ promises to stay in the Great Hall, and then after a quick embrace she was out the door again, and headed to where Severus had said Hermione was likely to be. Sure enough, Minerva's lover was in the Mid Courtyard, but while smoke was still rising from a pile of burning corpses - the smell of which was utterly vile - Hermione seemed to have resorted to a system of spells that were routing the Death Eaters out of the main castle and onto the grounds.

A glance down the path let Minerva see that a collection of Order members were already on the grounds, ready to take on the enemy fighters that Hermione sent their way. Still, Minerva observed, it wasn't enough. One out of two Death Eaters were making it past the Order blockade and moving toward the former Quidditch Pitch, which Minerva knew was refuge to a pile of civilians and poorly warded to boot. There weren't enough Order members to break into teams for pursuit. It didn't take a general's mind for Minerva to realize that it was a matter of time before the Death Eaters took the castle. In all likelihood, they had additional forces at the front gate, Hogsmeade was probably already under their control, and all someone on the inside had to do was open the gate and they'd be under attack from both sides.

"What are we going to do, Hermione?" Minerva asked desperately, upon reaching her lover's position.

"Has Severus gotten the Room shut down yet?" Hermione asked through gritted teeth.

"Not last I heard," she said solemnly. "Can I use the Wardling connection to wake Hogwarts up? Bring the castle into the fight?"

Hermione's eyes widened, considering. "There's a pile of spellwork needed to do that, and we don't have time for you to learn it. There is something _I_ can do, however. It was a failsafe… Godric's idea, but we all agreed to the blood oath. Minerva, love, I can stop this attack."

Minerva looked at her with exasperation. "Well then, do it already!"

Chocolate eyes met emerald ones and Minerva saw tears welling up in Hermione's eyes. It didn't take her long to consider that what she could do to stop this madness likely had a heavy cost.

"Tell the children that I love them very much," Hermione said, leaning forward and pressing a passionate kiss to her lover's lips. Minerva spent a few more seconds battling the Death Eater in front of her before taking off after her partner, who had bolted out of the courtyard and toward the castle gate.

"Wait, Hermione!" Minerva said, sprinting after her.

She was only a few strides behind her lover by the time the Head of the Order reached the gate, but calling out didn't make Hermione stop what she was doing. She placed a hand on the Hogwarts Crest, engraved on the stone pillar just inside the gate, and with her wand raised above her head she began to speak.

" _Nam centum anima mea cor tuum pro millia mi vitae est salus huic in arce. Sanguinem reddet pretium est Conditoris, mortem obiit inimicos receptus_ ," Hermione chanted, and each Latin word caused Minerva to pale even further.

No. That could not be the catch! That was _too high_ a price to pay. "Hermione, no!" she shouted.

Hermione turned to look at her lover, offering a sad smile as her body began to disintegrate and float away into the wind, like a log burned to ash but held together until a gust of air disturbed it. "Live, Minerva," her voice echoed as her face crumbled. The echo of Albus' last words to Minerva hurt badly enough, but she didn't start screaming until Hermione's wand clattered to the ground, its owner completely gone.

 _My soul for the hundreds, my heart for the thousands, my life for the safety of this castle's keep. My blood for the price that a Founder must pay, death of my enemies to keep death at bay._

The Latin had been simple enough to translate and understand as Hermione had cast the spell, but Minerva's mind couldn't function beyond the echo of the words that had come after. She didn't register the wards beginning to crackle around her, nor did she remotely notice that lightning strikes were hitting all over the castle, taking out the Death Eaters one by one, regardless of any shields with which they tried to defend themselves. By the time Minerva stopped screaming a minute later, no one else was screaming anymore, either. The castle had fallen silent as their attackers dropped like flies.

Mutely, she began to walk back up the hill toward the castle, desperate to get away from the body that wasn't there to mourn. Severus saw her coming, and rushed down the hill to meet her. "Minerva," he said. "What the hell just happened? Filius and I got the Room closed off but we were pinned down inside, and then the Death Eaters just started dropping dead."

"Dead?" she said mutely.

Severus suddenly noticed the shock on his friend's face. He grabbed her shoulders, and shook a little. "Minerva, what happened? Where's Hermione?"

Like a broken dam, tears began, finally, to fall down her face as reality sank in. "Dead," she whispered. "Hermione… is dead."

She collapsed into Severus' arms a moment later as her knees gave way, and he sank to the ground holding tightly, but saying nothing. What could he say? What Hermione had done had saved her life, as well as thousands more inside Hogwarts, but what was the point of any of that when the reason Minerva wanted to live was the cost of her survival?

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW! Also, I am sorry, and please know I took a week to write this chapter because I had to keep stopping to emotionally compose myself.**


	7. Chapter Six - Aftermath

**I'll admit, I put the peddle to the metal to get this chapter up before y'all started to riot. Enjoy! :)**

* * *

He hadn't expected to outlive her. Galahad expected to outlive everyone he met, as that was the nature of being immortal, but while Hermione hadn't been immortal in the classic sense, she'd seemed more bound to life than any immortal he'd ever known. He'd been told not long after meeting Hermione that she was a woman out of time, and would one day return to the distant future - to the here and now - and as he'd clung to the thrilling idea that hers would be a relationship he'd have that would span the ages, he'd all but forgotten the fact that despite all of that, she was still mortal.

Hermione Slytherin had done more for the world in her forty-seven years of life than he had in over a thousand, and the notion filled him with shame. Shame, and resolve to be more in the future. That in mind, he was wandering around the battle scarred castle now, checking in with those she'd been close to, trying to offer what little comfort there was to be had. Of all the ways to go, Hermione would have wanted to go out fighting, taking hordes of enemy combatants with her, and she'd done just that. As there was nothing left of the Death Eaters' remains to count, they'd had to guess how many of Voldemort's forces had stormed the castle yesterday, and their best guess was that there'd been at least twelve hundred.

By all accounts Hermione had taken out, between the Fiendfyre in the courtyard and the sacrifice she'd made to activate that violent reaction in the wards, more than two-thirds of the attackers.

"Galahad," a voice called to him.

"Rupert," he greeted, moving over to where the man had been sitting, hidden in an alcove of the corridor Galahad had been walking down just then. "Hiding?"

"Resting," the other man replied softly. "I managed to escape the battle with only minor injuries, but I was one of the few of the inner circle that did. Those of us not laid up have been pulling double duty trying to put things right. Not that anything could put things right, now."

Galahad sighed. "I know what you mean. She left some big shoes to fill. Who's taking over as Head of the Order?"

"For the moment, Severus is managing it, but with his duty as Lord Regent, he can't possibly keep it up in the long term. I think he means to speak with Remus, but Remus isn't coping with life very well at the moment, so I think he's waiting a bit," Rupert replied. "Severus is a real brick, you know? Hermione was like a sister to him, and this has got to be kicking him in the bollocks pretty hard, but he's standing strong anyway. I guess she was like a sister to a lot of us. She did tend to collect stray men."

"Ah," he said, cringing a bit. "While I am certainly deeply hurt by this loss, I was not among those who shared a familial type of bond with Hermione. Even if I was a stray that she, by your words, collected."

Rupert raised an eyebrow. "Because of knowing her back in the Founders Era?"

"Because we were once lovers," Galahad clarified. "And it's hard to think of Hermione as a sister when I've got vivid memories of being… _intimate_ with her."

"Oh. Well. That would change things then," Rupert agreed readily, bug-eyed at the notion. "Does Minerva know?"

"Oh yes," he chuckled. "I had no idea Hermione was involved with anyone when I arrived at Hogwarts per her summons, so upon seeing the woman I'd missed and longed for over the centuries, I promptly snogged her. In front of the Headmistress."

Rupert laughed. "I'd have paid to see that."

"Severus' reaction was far more amusing than Minerva's," he said, remembering. "History recalls me as _The Pure Knight_ , which was meant to be a title bestowed regarding my sense of honor, but in the modern age it's assumed I was celibate. Our dear friend promptly burst out laughing, saying ' _so much for the pure knight.'_ Minerva just calmly requested an introduction."

"Oh, Merlin," the other man said, rolling his eyes. "What an arse. Typical Severus."

"Quite," Galahad agreed. "Now, what about you? Are you and Ronald still planning to go to Sunnydale together? Or has that changed?"

"The Slayer still needs a Watcher, and despite all that's happened, the Goblin still requires an Order representative to chaperone me. Ron, despite the death of not one, but _both_ of his parents, and despite his own injury, is insistent that he will honor his agreement. He reasons that there's not enough time to train someone else to take his place, and as much as I would love to release him from this obligation, he's right on that end. We've spent weeks getting to know each other, and briefing him on all things Slayer, and getting his Watcher credentials secured… it's just too much to try and redo in the days we have before leaving. Not if we don't have to."

"I look forward to watching Mister Weasley finish growing up," Galahad commented. "He's a hell of a lad, and he'll become a man I'm proud to know. Presuming he lives long enough to finish growing up."

"I'll look out for him," Rupert promised.

"And he'll look out for you," he replied. "Which concerns me in regard to both of your welfare, as both of you are equally willing to lay your lives down for the cause."

"A mindset we learned from Hermione," the other man commented.

"And thus," Galahad said pointedly, "my concern."

Later, he ran into Amelia Black, who reported that her husband, Sirius, was going to make a full recovery despite a rather gruesome battle wound. This led him to check in with Helen Magnus, who of the medical staff, was the least likely to bite his head off for inquiring on the status of various patients. Malcolm and Jacqueline McGonagall were both prone to tempers - he for the Scottish blood running through his veins and so far as his wife was concerned, he really hadn't a clue. He assumed it had something to do with spending too much time with said Scottish bloodline. Galahad really didn't know how the young Defense Professor, Patrick, had escaped the personality trait. One would be hard pressed to meet a more even tempered young man.

Janet Hammond was simply _American_. She was a tiny little redhead who was fiercely protective of her patients, and while outside of the hospital environment he found her to be good company, inside her ward he'd learned quickly to stay out of her way. Helen, who was supposedly muggle despite magical lineage and immortality, was someone with whom he could carry on a conversation. Yes, she was the one to seek out.

"Mister DuLac," Helen greeted.

"Doctor Magnus," he greeted in kind. Her Victorian era roots were a balm to his soul. Yes, that had been a well mannered era, not unlike the time he'd been born into, and he _liked_ a well mannered individual more than he could express. Were she not Hermione's granddaughter, he might have even found her appealing in a sexual manner - Merlin knew she was a beautiful woman - but given the familial relation to Hermione, he could not bring himself to see her as anything other than a pleasant companion with whom he could relate deeply.

Immortality, for all its benefits, left one prone to egotism, which he could not abide. Helen, well past what would have been her natural lifespan, remained kind, considerate, and yes, very well mannered.

"What can I do for you?" she asked with a smile, turning her attention away from the pile of parchment under her fingertips and to himself.

"I've been doing the rounds, checking in on those most impacted by the battle," he confessed. "How are you managing?"

She sighed. "While yes, Hermione was a relation of mine, I hardly knew her so I'm doing well enough, I suppose. That, and in recent years I've had to watch a number of friends die of old age, so perhaps I'm just a bit numb to grief at this point. I'm sure you understand."

"I do," he agreed. "It's a sad truth, but the more loved ones you watch die, the easier it becomes to accept the event. Still, others are not so jaded as you and I, so there's a certain presentation of grief that must be adhered to. It's not that it's easy for us… just less hard."

"At the moment I'm a bit wrapped up in Annabeth's care," she allowed. "When Minerva sent her in, Jackie and Janet were both ready to amputate the leg, but I wouldn't hear of it. Jackie finally told me that if I wanted to work to save the leg, I'd be responsible for the physical therapy that came after. I do know she's Minerva's sister-in-law but I'm really having a difficult time resisting the urge to hit that woman. Speed does not always equate the best possible care, and yet she seems to think the faster she can tend to a patient, the better."

Galahad chuckled. "Do give her some grace. Most of what Jackie, and the rest of the staff here have been doing for the last year has been triage. In that instance, when there's dozens of patients coming in all at once with various levels of injury, speed is of the essence to save as many lives as possible. I'd be willing to bet it's become habitual at this point, to work quickly."

"Well, despite the therapy ahead, Annabeth still has both her legs, so I dare say she'll be thankful at least someone was thinking more long term," Helen replied tersely. "It's barbaric! And to think, Hermione wouldn't let me bring a gun to the castle because she found _it_ barbaric!"

"Given your current feelings regarding Madam McGonagall, I would have to say Hermione was probably wise not to give you free reign with a muggle firearm," he teased.

"I may want to shoot her, but I am quite capable of restraint."

"I'm sure you are," he allowed, choking up a bit at how much this woman reminded him of his former lover. "Oh, Doctor Magnus, there is more of Hermione inside of you than you know."

* * *

In another part of the Medical Tower, Harry was walking into a private room where his boyfriend, Ron Weasley, was recovering from his own wounds. "Hey," he said.

"Hey, Harry," Ron greeted quietly. "How are you doing? And Dudley, Emma, and Helena? And Vala and Minerva?"

"Dudley is clinging to Luna like his life depends on it, and she's helping, I think," Harry answered, taking a seat. "Helena is much the same with Draco, and surprisingly he's being really sensitive. I can't believe I'm saying this about _Malfoy_ , but I think he really loves her."

Ron chuckled lightly at that. "Who'd have thought the guy we thought was the Heir of Slytherin would end up marrying your sister?"

"Hey now, they aren't married yet," Harry groaned. "Don't rush it. Anyhow, Emma is… I think she's in denial. She's staying busy, helping anywhere she can, especially with Vala, because Mother is… well, she's not well."

"Hermione's dead," the redhead said sadly. "Can you blame her?"

"No," the other teen choked. "And I'm not much better than she is. Just better at hiding it, I guess. It's weird, but we sorta already mourned Hermione once, so maybe that's why it's easier this time."

"She wasn't your mum then," Ron said pointedly. "Don't try and pretend this is the same. You have to process."

"Pot, meet kettle," Harry commented. "How are you holding up?"

"Not sure why the bloody hell I'm still stuck in this bed," he muttered. "But otherwise, how do you expect, mate? My parents are dead. Hermione's dead. Never in my life have I felt like I needed to be there for you as much as I feel it right now, but I also know I have a duty to the war, my family, and Rupert, to follow through on my commitment to go to America."

"I figured you'd still be going."

"I'm sorry," Ron whispered. "I'm so sorry, Harry. Worse, with the Room of Requirement being off the option list, we have to leave even sooner than planned. Three days from now."

"Damn," Harry cursed. "Stupid Death Eaters."

As everyone had heard by now, the Death Eaters that had attacked Hogwarts yesterday had managed to attack and take both Durmstrang and Beauxbatons before using their connections in the Room of Requirement to gain entry here. Headmaster Karkaroff and Headmistress Maxime's _actual heads_ had been found in the hall outside the Room in the aftermath of the battle, sending a clear message to the leadership here. Bill and Fleur had survived the onslaught at Beauxbatons and come through to report the French school's status, and Victor Krum had gotten word to Severus that things were much the same at Durmstrang. Naturally, the events of the battle had left both the American and Japanese schools rattled, and at least for the time being, they were shutting down their connection to Hogwarts as well. Once again, they were isolated and alone.

Bill, Ron had reported earlier, was stepping up to take his father's seat on the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and Harry wasn't sure who would take over as Head of the Order with Hermione gone. Of the major positions of power, those had been the two fatalities that required replacements in short order, and while the logical part of Harry knew why things had to move along like that, a part of him knew he'd hate whoever took his Mum's place on sheer principle.

It was just so overwhelming, and everyone was so busy dealing with important business that none of his living parental figures - Minerva and Severus, that was - were available for him now. Harry hated how used to it he was. He hated how second nature it was for him to bottle up his own feelings and just deal with harsh realities, because it was what he'd known for most of his life. Still, at least he had Ron. Rather, he had Ron for three more days. The thought of losing Ron, even if it was just because he'd be moving to California, was enough to make him sick when laid on top of the existing sense of loss he was feeling.

Without another word, Harry crawled into bed next to Ron, cuddled up next to him and let himself begin to cry for the first time since the battle. "Hold me…" he begged.

"Shhh," Ron whispered. "I've got you. It's going to be okay."

Harry didn't know how anything, ever, was going to be okay after what had happened yesterday, but something in Ron's voice soothed him, so for a while, he was content to just let it all out, dwelling in the little comfort he could have.

* * *

She knew this place, though it was cleaner than she'd ever seen it. It was where her journey had begun, all those years ago, and so it was fitting that this would be where it would end. While bright, and white, and sterile, there was no mistaking the corridor in Hogwarts where she'd long ago tripped and fallen, and been launched into the far past. Hermione wandered the corridor alone for a time, which despite it only being some two hundred meters long in reality, seemed to go on and on, here.

"You look lost, Guardian," a voice called from behind her.

At first she thought it was Galahad, and cringed at the thought that perhaps he had also fallen in the battle, but when she turned around she saw another man who, a long time ago, had called her by that title. "Joseph," she greeted. "Librarian."

"How you been, Hermione?" he asked with a grin. "Since you killed me and all that?"

"You were already all but dead, Joe," she responded. "And I did what I had to do."

"The duty of a Guardian is to look first to the well being of the Librarian's soul, and second to the well being of his body. Yes, you did the right thing, but I still wish there'd been another way," he replied. "It's not as if I meant to go and get corrupted. How did you know, by the way? That my soul had been fractured?"

"I had a life before you," she responded. "And unfortunately that wasn't the first time I'd seen magic tear a soul asunder. I could sense it."

"Ah, well," the former Librarian sighed. "What's done is done. Tell me, Hermione, have you been happy? Have you had a good life?"

Hermione thought about it for a moment. "While my life has been lived greatly in the midst of one war or another, I have few regrets, save for the hurt of those I leave behind. I've been a wife, a lover, a mother, and a friend. I've led men and women into battle, and I've helped reform a government fallen under tyranny. Not bad for the daughter of a pair of dentists."

"Dentists?"

"They tend to people's teeth," she explained. "Or used to. My father is already dead, and my mother's life has been uprooted in the wake of the war."

"She'll be alright," Joseph assured. "I mean, she's your mother, so she's got the blood of a fighter."

"I'm not worried about her," Hermione whispered. "I'm worried about Minerva, and my children."

"You know, you once told me you weren't going to have kids," the Librarian teased. "What changed?"

Hermione chuckled. "I had a child. And the joy of being a mother is something nothing else can replace. One child, and I was hooked. Nobody lives forever; even an Immortal like Galahad will one day meet his end, but neverending life can be achieved by leaving behind children to carry on your legacy. Then, it becomes their legacy to carry on with their own children, and while those children won't belong to you in the strictest sense, they are still a part of you."

"Damn," Joseph muttered. "Makes me wish I'd made the time, and had a few of my own. You make it sound so romantic."

"You were a Librarian, my friend," she said. "Your legacy is already everlasting. So long as the Library endures, so shall you."

"I like that," he commented. "That said, Hermione, it's time for me to go."

"What?" she cried out. "No! We haven't even begun to truly catch up! I'm coming with you, aren't I?"

"Eventually," he promised. "But not yet. You're in the in-between place, now, and there are others you need to see."

Hermione didn't get a chance to say another word before he was gone, and she was alone again. Once more, she wandered along the seemingly endless corridor, reflecting on her life, and wondering what she might have done differently. A part of her bitterly regretted even being here - she still had so much to do, and to live for - but the other part of her was glad that she could finally, at long last, rest.

"It's hardly rest if you're restlessly pacing like that," a new voice called to her. This one she knew nearly as well as her own, as it had often haunted her dreams in the last few years.

"Albus," she said, turning. "Oh, Albus, I'm so sorry."

"For what, my dear?"

"You died!"

"Not at your hand, nor by your making," he replied. "So why do you carry the burden of guilt?"

"Minerva wasn't ready for you to die, and neither was I!" she said, exasperated. "We needed you, and we let you die!"

"You seem to have done fairly well without me, Miss Granger."

Her eyes narrowed. "I haven't been _Miss Granger_ in a very long time, Albus. I'd thank you not to call me that."

His eyes twinkled. "There is more of Miss Granger inside of you than you know. I suppose you reason that the little girl who started school with Harry Potter died when she stumbled into the past, in this very corridor, but that's not true. Not unlike the Longbottoms, she was simply hidden away behind a mask, because she didn't belong in the Founders' time anymore than they would belong in this time. But Hermione, you made it back, safe and sound, and still kept who you are hidden from the world. Practical, for certain, but was it right?"

"I did what I did to protect everyone around me," Hermione ground out. "What good would have come from my being shuffled off to Azkaban, and those who knew the truth with me?"

"I do not suggest that you reclaim your name, but rather your heart," he said patiently. "There's a muggle song which talks about physically being a place, but your heart not being there, and how empty you feel as a result. _I left my heart in San Francisco_. You, Hermione, left your heart in this corridor, didn't take it with you, or into your relationships with Salazar and Rowena, or even young Lucy. Then, you came back to your proper time, and you didn't pick your heart back up. You're still closed off, still making the logical choice and treating every relationship you have as a task to manage or a duty to uphold. There are people who love you with their whole hearts, and they deserve yours in return."

Hermione hated it, but he was right. She'd come back, and remained as emotionally closed off as she'd always been. Yes, she cared deeply for Minerva, and loved her to the moon and back, but she'd never once offered her heart to Minerva. She'd given trust, and she'd given respect, but if Minerva had been the one to fall in battle rather than her, Hermione guiltily realized that her own mourning process would be proceeding far easier than she _knew_ Minerva was doing now. Oh, what a fool she'd been!

"A bit late for this realization," she said bitterly. "I can't make it right, not now."

"Perhaps you can," he said suggestively, before he vanished from view, once again leaving her alone.

Once Albus was gone, the brightness of the corridor seemed to dim a bit, and she discovered that the corridor she'd been deposited in was no longer endless. She wandered away from there, exploring the castle as if it was just another day. That said, there were very few people, and when she did see someone they appeared as a blur, and obviously couldn't see her. She came across Cuthbert Binns, who stared intently in her direction for a moment before shaking his head and muttering something about how he hadn't felt a magical pulse like that since the end of the last war.

Was she a ghost? Or on the verge of becoming one? Hermione had conversed with Helena a bit on the subject of being a ghost, and how somebody became one, though she'd never gotten a solid answer from her daughter. Since Helena had become flesh and bone again, Hermione hadn't thought to bring up the subject anew, feeling like it would be a sensitive topic. Not that she had much time for Helena in recent weeks. Her, or Emma, or Harry, or Dudley, or even Minerva.

At the thought of Minerva, Hermione found her feet carrying her to their quarters in the Head Tower, where she saw her lover curled up in the bed, sobbing. "Why can I still feel you here?" the Scottish witch cried out to the otherwise empty room. "Damnit, Hermione, where are you?"

"I'm here!" Hermione tried to call out, but no sound came out of her mouth. She moved forward, and tried to lay a hand on the heaving shoulder, and after a minute, Minerva stilled and fell into a fitful slumber. Hermione stayed there for a while, before deciding that being there was probably causing more harm than good. Even if Minerva could sense her lingering here in the castle, it wouldn't last. At some point, she would move on, and be really and truly gone. That was just the facts of life, and of death.

Still, knowing that didn't stop her from seeking out the children one by one. Emma was just in the other room, caring for baby Vala, making Hermione's stomach lurch at the implication. Molly and Arthur had fallen in the battle. Helena she found in the Slytherin Common Room, curled up on a sofa with Draco Malfoy, and she smiled a bit at that. The two were taking things slow, as was appropriate, and Hermione had been meaning to speak with Lucius and Narcissa about the match. Draco came from a pureblood line that still adhered to arranged marriages, and Helena was from an era where that was the expectation as well. While she knew the other children would not appreciate their marriages being pre-arranged by their parents, it was something that Draco and Helena would welcome. She supposed Minerva would have to handle that now.

She began to regret seeking out the children when she found her grief stricken elder son drowning his pain in a decidedly compromising manner. Dudley and Luna were in the Ravenclaw dorms together, making love with all abandonment of good reason. Could she ground her son from beyond the grave? Hermione didn't think so, and with an annoyed huff, went to find Lucy.

She found her firstborn in a similar position as Dudley, though with Remus Lupin. At least the two of them were consenting adults, and more than old enough to choose their partners without parental interference. She did wonder how long _that_ had been going on, or if their coupling now was the first time.

Harry, _thankfully_ , was not having sex with Ron or anyone else when she found him a while later. He was alone, sitting by the lake, seemingly lost in his own thoughts as he watched ripples form and dissipate around the rocks he was skipping across the surface of the water.

"Was it entirely necessary for Harry to have to lose another mum for the greater good?" a new voice asked, this time a woman.

This, however, was not someone Hermione had ever met in life. "Lily Potter," she identified. "Interesting people one meets, when dead."

Lily's head tilted to the side. "Technically, you're not."

"Not what?" the brunette asked, confused. Granted, she hadn't expected death to be easy to understand.

"You're not technically dead."

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	8. Chapter Seven - Shadow of Doubt

**Alright readers, in the near future, I will be starting a new story titled "Watching Time", which will follow Ron and Rupert through their time in Sunnydale. Keep an eye out for that. Seeking Time will continue along side it, as Watching Time and Seeking Time's timelines overlap. Enjoy the chapter!**

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"You need to take over as Head of the Order," Severus stated, trying his best to look compassionate but still firm. Merlin knew Remus wasn't coping well with the losses, Molly and Arthur in particular. The Weasleys had never once treated him like a lesser man because he was a werewolf, and had been some of the few who could claim that. They'd meant the world to him.

"What?" Remus yelped. "No! Severus, I can't do… _that_ …"

"You can, and you will," he urged. "Who else could take the position? I cannot, with my other duties, nor can Minerva. Arthur's gone, as are Shacklebolt, Moody, and Dumbledore. September is right around the corner so I cannot ask Filius or Pomona either. Patrick has stepped up as Head of Gryffindor and taken all of Hermione's classes, and while you do have Transfiguration, that's the limit of your responsibility. We're running out of people who are qualified, capable, and trustworthy."

"What about Leland?" Remus asked. "He fits the bill."

"And he's a bit busy trying to keep Minerva together, and has effectively taken over as Head of Hogwarts, on the downlow, of course. He has no desire to have the position officially. He's just helping until Minerva gets back in gear," Severus countered. "It has to be you."

"Bugger."

"You'll do splendidly," Severus offered an uncharacteristic encouragement. He believed it, too. While it was no secret that there was little love between him and the self-proclaimed _Marauders_ , of the four of them he'd always found Remus to be at least tolerable, and now that they were adults and Remus was mostly free of his friends' influence - bloody mutt being the exception - he actually found Remus to be decent company.

"No, no… what about Lucy?"

Severus shook his head. "No, Remus. Lucy doesn't know the members of the Order well enough for them to trust her. She may be Hermione's daughter, and she may be known to our society as Perenelle Flamel, but end of the day no one really _knows_ her. Except for you, perhaps, if the rumors are right."

The werewolf blushed. "It's... new. That bit."

"Anyone else you want to try to convince me is more qualified?" Severus inquired, smirking.

"No," Remus sulked.

"Good," he replied, unshrinking the large stack of parchment he'd been hiding in his pocket and handing them to Remus. "This is what I could find in Hermione's office that seemed to be Order related. Minerva keyed you into the wards of the Head Tower, as well, so if you need space to work or want to have a look around her office yourself, you're to let yourself in."

"Wonderful," he deadpanned. "You do know you've just handed me a world of problems, right? With Hermione being gone, the Serpent Accord has certainly failed, and at this very moment our enemy is regrouping and recruiting from a pool of players that Hermione spent months getting off the board. How do I even begin to do damage control?"

"I may have a bit of news on that front," a new voice said, entering the room. Narcissa Malfoy greeted them with a curt nod, as did her husband Lucius. "Merlin knows how or why, but the Serpent Accord remains in place."

"What?" Severus gaped, truly surprised. Like Remus, he'd been certain the magical contract which had kept many of the dark families neutral in the war would have failed in the wake of Hermione's death. "How is that possible?"

"It's not," Lucius said. "Which means that Madam Slytherin can't be dead."

"Minerva watched her body basically explode," Severus countered. "I'm not sure how we can look at it any other way."

Remus looked thoughtful. "The wards. What if she's simply in the wards?"

Narcissa seemed to understand what he was getting at. "Like Apparation? How we become nothing, travel as energy, and then retake physical form?"

He nodded eagerly. "Wards consume magical energy, and then project a predetermined protection. If Hermione's energy was simply taken by the wards… the wards being her destination, her determination being to end the battle in our favor, and her deliberation was to do so by creating a new and powerful ward that, as far as we can figure it, targeted anyone with an active Dark Mark."

"Leland's mark and mine are both deactivated," Severus remarked. "And Lucius, you were on a mission at the time, right?"

"Correct," he said. "However, my sense of self preservation wants to know if I should be concerned for my welfare now."

Narcissa shook her head. "I don't think so. The energy that it took to pull that off was enormous, and without another sacrifice like Hermione made, I don't believe it's possible that the effect would linger."

"I agree," Remus said. "That said, this theory hinges on the use of Hermione's magic as a means to activate the ward. We had already figured that, and assumed that her magical energy was spent on the spell, and resulted in her death."

"So if the Serpent Accord is holding," Severus chimed in, "then perhaps it didn't require all of her magic, but enough that she cannot retake physical form. That's not unlike the base cause of splinching, which is why children aren't allowed to do it. It's too dangerous."

"So are we postulating that she is simply stuck in the wards?" Narcissa asked. "If yes, how do we get her out? Presuming we should."

"Of course we should!" Remus snapped, taking offense that was even a question.

"Easy there, my friend," Severus said, touching Remus' shoulder. "I believe Cissa is asking if we'd even get the same Hermione back, or if there isn't enough of her left to reconstitute."

The blonde witch nodded. "If too much of her magical core was spent, then we could bring her back as a squib, best case, or in pieces like a splinch gone extremely bad. Or we could get her body back but not her mind. Further, we have to consider that if this all works like we believe it does, then her magical signature is now part of the wards, which means pulling her out may very well dismantle the wards entirely, requiring them to be recast from the ground up."

"Which would be an exceptionally bad thing," Severus added, "As the very foundations are held together with magic. If the wards fail in totality, Hogwarts could crumble around us before we'd had time to reset them at all."

Remus nodded in understanding. "Of course. I'm sorry. I suppose at the very least we should be grateful that for now, the Serpent Accord is holding. We do need to research this, though, because if there's a chance to get her back…"

"Then we'll find a way," Narcissa said. "We'll need a team, though."

"Not me," Lucius grunted. "I may be an able handler for Umbridge, but I'm admittedly bad at research."

"Well, I can head the team," Narcissa offered. "Severus, Remus, you two obviously can pitch in where and when you can, but you're both busy with other duties so we need at least another one or two people if we expect to make any headway."

"Only people who can keep a secret," Severus urged. "I do not want Minerva and the children to hear about any of this. I will not give them hope until we're more sure."

"Agreed," Remus said. "I'd have suggested Rupert before, but he's leaving today, right?"

"In a few hours," Severus replied.

"What about Lucy?" The werewolf asked. "She knows Hogwarts better than any of us. She'd be helpful, and can certainly keep a secret."

"And you'd enjoy spending additional time with her, no doubt," Narcissa said slyly, eliciting another blush from Remus. "Yes to Lucy. While Hermione is her mother, she's more than able to set aside emotion."

"Leland as well," Severus suggested. "Wards are his specialty."

"I think that's enough to start," Narcissa said, looking thoughtful. "No, one more. I assume Filius can be trusted to keep a secret?"

"Right," Remus said, nodding. "Absolutely for Filius. Charmswork is the basis for warding, so he'll be an asset for certain. The sooner we get this sorted, the better."

"You may also want to consider bringing Galahad into the loop. And Remus, we mustn't rush something this delicate," Severus smirked, "even if it does feasibly get you out of Heading the Order in the long term."

"I'll just be keeping her seat warm," the werewolf said, grinning. "No big deal, that."

Severus rolled his eyes, and Narcissa voiced the thought in his mind. "Gryffindors," she scoffed.

* * *

Emma looked up as Draco and Harry walked into the tower, followed a moment later by Luna, Dudley, and Helena. It was still so very odd to see Helena walking instead of floating, but Emma supposed that was the least of her worries, adjustment wise. "Funeral over?" she asked her brothers.

Dudley nodded. "We figure Mum would have wanted someone to represent our family, and Mother isn't up to it, obviously. It's not like the Ruehl kids have a lot of family support. Their dad isn't around, and now their mum is dead."

"How is she today?" Harry asked. "Mother?"

"No better than yesterday," Emma replied. "But Vala seems calmer so long as I don't let Mother fuss with her too much. She seems to sense Mother's pain."

All five teens nodded sagely at her assessment.

"Mother won't arrange a funeral for Mum," Dudley commented, looking at the floor. "I tried talk to her about it, but she seems to think that since there's no body to bury, then we can't be sure Mum's really gone. I want so badly to believe her, but…"

"That's the grief talking," Draco whispered. "I mean, Merlin knows I wish Hermione wasn't gone, but… she's done a lot for me."

Dudley nodded, and put a hand on his friend and dorm mate's shoulder. Emma knew how much Mum had advocated for the other Slytherin, much to Harry's initial protests. She thought perhaps Hermione was to Draco how Sirius was for Harry - an extra parent.

"She'll never forgive us if we push it," Emma remarked. "So until she's ready, we'll just have to wait."

"Ron's leaving today," Harry said bitterly. "He should have been able to be at her funeral - Rupert as well - but Mother's stubbornness…"

"None of us were the love of Minerva's life," Luna commented. "We haven't the right to tell her how to grieve, or how quickly. Also, her stubbornness has saved us more times than I can count, so perhaps it's best we just trust it now."

"I may be able to get through to her," Helena offered. "I mean, I was dead, so if anyone understands how it feels to be separated from loved ones that way, it would be me."

Emma shook her head at her sister. "That would be asking her to see reason, Helena," she replied. "At this point, I don't think she can. Not yet."

"So we give her time?" Dudley asked.

"We give her time," Emma agreed. "After everything she's given all of us, I think we owe her that much."

* * *

Rupert walked with Ron toward the gates of Hogwarts, and toward the apparation point that would be the end of his time at Hogwarts for the foreseeable future, and the beginning of his appointment as the Watcher of Buffy Summers. Remus had told them that anyone wanting to see them off - they'd already said most of their goodbyes - would be waiting at the gate, and Rupert wondered who would show up, if anyone. Ron had already told him he and Harry had said their farewells, and the boy was having a hard time so much as looking at his brothers and sisters right now. Rupert surmised that he felt guilty for leaving them so soon after their parents had died.

"And because I was there, but couldn't save them," Ron said mutely.

"Excuse me?" Rupert asked, not having thought he'd spoken.

"Occlumency," Ron replied. "Sorry. You were really projecting. Blame Severus."

"Ah," the elder man said. "There was nothing you could have done, Ron. Surely you know this."

"Knowing a thing and feeling it are two totally different Hippogriffs," came a sharp reply. "Like knowing we're walking to the gate to apparate, and that making perfect sense, but feeling like we're trespassing on hallowed ground because the gate is where Hermione died."

Rupert looked ahead of them, and saw the large obelisk looming just in front of them where Hermione had met her end. He was right. It felt like walking over someone's grave. "It is what it is," he said gruffly. "We can't exactly move the front gate."

Flowers and other trinkets had been left at the base of the obelisk, he noted as they got closer, in memoriam. Minerva had yet to arrange a funeral, so he supposed people were saying goodbye to the Head of the Order in their own way in the meantime.

"Was starting to think you'd gotten cold feet."

Just ahead of them, Rupert spotted a gaggle of redheads. It seemed like, sans baby Vala, all of the Weasley siblings had come to see their brother off. To Rupert's surprise, he also saw his own brother standing off to the side, looking oddly humble. Humble was not something that Robert Giles could often be accused of being.

"Sorry George," Ron replied to his brother. "Got held up saying goodbye to Harry."

"Was there snogging?" the other twin - Fred, Rupert reasonably assumed - teased.

"Of course there was," Bill concluded.

"Give the man a break, guys," Charlie chastised his brothers.

Ron lit up a bit at how Charlie had addressed him - as a _man_. Rupert hid a small grin, remembering how his own younger brother had lit up the first time he'd addressed him as a man, rather than a boy. That memory in mind, Rupert patted Ron on the shoulder and then moved to where Robert was standing a few feet away.

"I'm surprised you came down," he admitted. "But glad."

"I had to say something to you," Robert said, shuffling his feet nervously. "Before you left."

Rupert nodded, and resisted the urge to go into defense mode. Historically, any time Robert had something to say to him, it was critical and demeaning, but Robert's body language now sent an entirely different message, so he gave his brother the benefit of the doubt. "Alright then," he invited.

"I don't want to fight with you anymore, Rupert," he said after a pause. "With Hermione gone, I know I could go back to being a prick toward you, but I don't want to. I shouldn't have needed her order to treat you like a brother, and I'm sorry I did. From now on, I want to love you regardless of if I agree with you, because life's too damn short for regrets, and I don't want one of us getting killed to be the thing that makes me realize how important family is."

Rupert was beyond moved at the statement, finding that he couldn't think of a single thing to say in response. "Oh, Rob," he choked out, moving forward quickly and grabbing his brother into a tight hug. They'd never see eye to eye on a number of things, but Rupert had long felt much the same as Robert had just stated. He never wanted to be his brother's enemy. "Me, as well."

Robert returned the hug, and then the two men pulled apart and looked at each other awkwardly. "You'll write, I trust?" Rupert said after a moment.

"Of course," his brother agreed. "I'll be sure to make Ethan write as well. I know how you care for him."

"That would be nice."

Silence ensued. For as much progress in their relationship had been made in the last few minutes, they were still a far cry from comfortable with each other. They knew very little of each others' lives, and Rupert made a mental note to, in his letters, be forthright about his past in hopes that genuine honesty might help his brother open up to him.

"Well," Robert finally said. "We best collect Mister Weasley. The two of you have quite a journey ahead."

Rupert nodded in agreement, and the two moved back toward the Weasleys just in time to see Ron put his hands on his brother Percy's shoulders. "I know we haven't always got on well, but you're my brother, and I love you," he said. "Mum and Dad would have wanted us to work past our differences. I'm willing to try if you are. We can write, though it'll have to be muggle post. Smart as you are, I'm sure you can manage that."

Percy looked on the verge of tears. "How can you just open up like that? How can you trust me after how often I've been a complete arse? I don't think even Mum and Dad trusted me to… see what I had to lose. And I didn't, till they were gone, and I feel like a total fool."

"They trusted you, and had faith in you, Perc," Bill interjected. "Why do you think they chose you to be Ron and Ginny's guardian until they come of age? They updated it from me to you the minute you turned seventeen, you know. It's not that they didn't trust me, but they knew you'd do better at it - seeing those two were brought up right and cared for, without coddling them too much."

"And if my opinion matters, I'm glad they did that," Ginny put in. "Of all of you guys, I've always known that no matter what, you'd put my interests before your own. You'd protect me, even if it made me mad. That's how Mum and Dad were, and how they'd have wanted me to be treated."

Ron nodded in agreement. "And Perc, ya big dope, I know that even though I'm going away, you'll make sure that I have a home to come back to. We've all got our things to do and places to go and duties to see to, but you've got the most important job of all - to keep us together, and Mum and Dad, and all of us, trust you to make that happen. Got it?"

Percy wrapped Ron into a tight hug, which Ginny joined into, and then Bill, and then the other three boys. They stayed like that for a moment before Ginny, who'd been squished into the middle of the huddle, let out a muffled plea. "Can't breathe guys!"

This, unsurprisingly, had all of her brothers laughing as they pulled apart, shaking Ron's hand in turn, and wishing him good luck before they headed down the path. Percy was the last to leave. "I won't let you down," he promised his youngest brother.

"I know," Ron smiled, before pulling Percy into one more hug before he waved goodbye and returned to Rupert's side. Neither man said a word as they walked to the edge of the wards, and began the series of apparations needed to get to America, and then to Sunnydale.

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